Dean Almighty
by HalfBloodAlchemist-10
Summary: Dean, a struggling news reporter, takes on the role of God, and has a hell of a time with his new powers!  A Supernatural/Bruce Almight crossover  sorry its not under the crossover category, movie wasn't mentioned  Destiel
1. Chapter 1

Dean Almighty

Author: Halfblood Alchemist

Rating: NC-17

Genre/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, humor

Spoilers: none for SPN, basic for Bruce Almighty

Warnings: Crude humor, language, sexuality and violence

Word Count:

Summary: Dean, a struggling news reporter, takes on the role of God, and has a hell of a time with his new powers!

A/N: I didn't keep to the original story of Bruce Almighty, completely. I changed it up to make it my own style, but kept to the original CONCEPT. I changed the script, and different parts to make it more original. I DO NOT OWN BRUCE ALMIGHTY, OR SPN! The respective creators own them.

* * *

The sun shone brightly through the bedroom curtains, promising what could be a beautiful day in Buffalo New York. The birds chirped merrily outside the window, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the rich inviting smell of fresh ground coffee permeated the air of their bedroom. Of course these things wouldn't stand in the way of his having a totally shitty day anyway. The sleeping form, curled up under the blankets, sniffed unconsciously at the air, and stirred, groaning in protest of having to wake up and go to work. He detested his job, he detested his co-workers, and he detested that stupid dog, who thought it was just peachy freaking keen when he pissed on his favorite chair in the apartment. But that coffee did smell pretty good, he reasoned, finally pushing himself up onto his elbows, and blinking rather stupidly in the sunlight.

"Dean!" a happy voice came from the kitchen, giving reason to the delightful coffee aroma. "Dean wake up! You're going to be late for work!" Suddenly the voice's owner burst into the room, carrying a cup of coffee and a plate of cinnamon rolls for him. "Come on, babe_,_ you have to drop me off at the day-care center before you report to the studio."

Dean stared up at his lover for a moment, actually content for once and smiled. "Cas, how can someone be this happy all the time?"

Cas shrugged his shoulders, and placed the plate and cup on the bedside table top before crawling into the bed with Dean for a moment. "Oh please, you really can't always be this grumpy can you? Besides, you have that big story today downtown. You're excited right?"

Dean stared at Cas curled up in his elbow for a moment, with a you-must-be-out-of-you're-mind expression. "Babe_,_ I'm doing a story today on a giant fucking cookie. I'm about as excited as an atheist going to Sunday services."

Cas looked at Dean for a moment, sighed and crawled back out of bed. "Well if you really must be so prude, you're coffee and rolls are getting cold. Don't take so long getting ready, though, I have to get to work on time myself. The kids are bringing things for show and tell today and if I don't show up when they do, there'll be trouble.", and with a twinkle in his impossibly blue eyes, he was out the bedroom door.

Dean shook his head and reached for the plate. 'Well today can't possibly go bad can it?' he though hopefully.

* * *

Dean stood in the bakery with his camera crew, ruing the day he was born. "Why? Why God? I just got my hair to look nice… and they tell me to wear the stupid hairnet. That's perfect…" He griped to his supervisor on duty as she chuckled to herself. Vol Kowolski was at it again, his finger up his left nostril to the first knuckle once again. "Are we cutting or are we just going to keep going, Jo?"

"Keep rolling, well pick it up at B-roll." She laughed. Dean sighed and continued with his monotonous job at interviewing the Kowolski family about their bakery, 'oh what an interesting topic,' he fumed, 'I bet Michael wouldn't get such crappy stories, he got his damn nose shoved so far up corporate's ass …' But the moment the camera started recording, Dean put his temper aside and smiled, slipping easily into the "funny man" he'd become familiar as in Buffalo. Many people found his news reports to be quite hilarious, but he didn't see it that way. He always felt like he was chosen for the demeaning stories, just so Michael could look better with his _coif_ and suit. In actuality however, he kinda liked his job, but he wouldn't tell that to anyone. He liked making people laugh; it was like second nature to him. Dean finally finished up his story on the Kowolski's giant cookie, and smiled to the camera. "… And that's the way it goes, folks! I'm Dean Winchester, here for Eyewitness News."

* * *

Back at their apartment, Dean and Cas watched the DVD from his news cast, while Cas fussed with a photo album. "Babe_,_ that was really great, you looked fantastic today!" he cried, leaning over to Dean and planting a kiss on his stubbly cheek.

Dean groaned, "It sucked. A giant cookie, who finds something like that interesting to watch? The Pillsbury Doughboy would be so proud right now…" he pouted before getting up off the couch.

"Oh come on, I laughed! There is nothing wrong with making people laugh, Dean." Cas countered.

Dean turned and gave his famous what-the-fuck look again. "Cas, I'm never going to get anchor if I keep getting these sorts of projects! Because every time I do, I have to make myself look like an ass to do it. There's no credibility in it! Let's watch it again…" he finished as he reached for the DVD player.

"Oh no, you don't! You promised you would help me with this photo album." Cas said, pointing at the couch. "Plant it!"

Dean pouted again, and sat down reluctantly, fingering through a stack of photos. Cas chuckled to himself. "Aw see isn't this fun? Pick your favorites out, so I can put them in the album." Dean sighed -he seemed to do a lot of that lately- and pulled out two pictures before giving up. "You know Michael's going to get the job… he's the favorite."

Cas moaned disgustedly, "Oh never mind! We'll just get some kid to do it!" He reached for a stack of pictures, but Dean stopped his hand.

"Hang on! What's this picture?" he asked, pulling the top photo off. He contemplated the image for a moment. "Hey isn't this from when we stayed at that cabin by the lake?" Cas perked up.

"Hey where did that come from? That's supposed to be in our private stash!" Cas exclaimed.

Dean scrutinized over it for another moment. "You're looking a little perky there… a little cold babe?" he chortled, wagging his eyebrow at him.

Cas swiped for it. "Give it back, Dean!" But Dean just held the picture out of his reach, and threatened to put it on his laptop for the world at large to see. "Oh fine!" huffed Cas, "Do what you will with it, I don't care!" With that, he stormed out of the room, which left Dean plenty of opportunity to egg him on.

"No I got something better… I'll send this in to "Eye Kandi" magazine! They are always loo-" he managed to say before he was tackled to the floor by his irate boyfriend. They scrapped over the picture for awhile before they both got tired of struggling, and got down to business, kissing heatedly on the floor of their apartment. Sam, the golden retriever, shook his head with repulsion before turning over on his doggy bed to go back to sleep, trying to ignore the two men having a splendid time necking on the floor.

* * *

The next morning the two woke up and groggily crawled out of bed to go about their morning rituals. Cas hopped in the shower, leaving Dean to the breakfast cooking. "You know babe_, _I think the whole catch phrase thing might come in handy!" he shouted over the sizzle of the bacon, and the shower. He contemplated some in his head, 'And that's the way it goes!... nah, too Walter Cronkite … And that's the way the cookie crumbles!... hey I kinda like that…' he chuckled to himself, only seconds before the old frown came back. He heard all too clearly the sound of his beloved chair being defiled once more. "Aw damn it! Cas, your dog is at it again!" he shouted. Sam stared back at him innocently, leg still poised against the chair as he relieved himself.

Cas stepped into the kitchen, wearing only a towel. "Dean, calm down. He's still young he'll learn." He laughed and planted a kiss on Dean's lips before heading to the bedroom to get dressed. "Oh we're hosting a blood drive today at the day-care. It's open to the public. Would you like to donate some?"

Dean shuddered. "No thanks! Needles and I don't mix. Why would you want to donate blood anyway? They don't do anything with it; it just sits in a warehouse somewhere."

Cas laughed at the absurdity of it. "No they don't. And I'm donating because I have a really rare blood type: AB+. So they need mine." Dean smiled to himself. Cas was special… and Dean knew it. Cas walked back into the kitchen, dressed and wearing his favorite trench coat, and grinned at Dean.

"Besides," Dean continued, "we're having a very important meeting today at the office. It's sweeps week and if my story gets chosen then it will be on the evening news tonight!"

Cas cheered for Dean, and hugged him. "Well then you need to take these." He said, taking a red beaded bracelet off his wrist and giving them to his partner. "These are prayer beads. You could use a little luck today!" Dean accepted them skeptically, and placed them in his pocket. "Sure hope these things work. I'll need a miracle to get to work on time!"

* * *

Dean found himself running frantically up the flight of stairs of the network building, almost an hour late to the meeting. He cursed the traffic, he cursed his car, and he cursed his damn prayer beads. He rushed past the sandwich vendor without so much as a passing glance, which turned the usually pleasant man's mood sour. He passed the secretary who secretly had a crush on him, with nothing more than a quick flip of the wrist. She too felt ignored, and joined the sandwich vendor in a bought of brooding. Dean burst into the conference room, panting just as his boss, Bobby Singer finished opening the meeting. "Well nice of you to join us, Dean, we just finished discussing the part you were _supposed_ to be here for."

"I am so sorry, Bobby. Traffic was horrible, and I had to drop off-" the gruff man cut him off, and bade him to sit down for the rest of the meeting. Michael, sitting across the table from him, muttered under his breath, "and that's the way the cookie crumbles…" sending his friends into fits of giggling. Dean shot daggers at him, and settled down in the chair, listening to Bobby speak.

"Oh I almost forgot, Dean. We decided to go with Michael's piece for the sweeps this time. It really was a good story, but it just wasn't what we were looking for." Bobby added, eliciting more giggles from the Michael gang, leaving Dean to gawp in disbelief.

"Oh… ok. Well then if that's what you feel." He muttered finally. Michael once again looked at his rival and gave him a cheesy smile. "Hey you know what they say, Dean. To the best man, may he prosper." Dean just about burst at that remark, and was about to retort when Bobby cut off the argument right there. The rest of the meeting went fairly smoothly, despite Dean's incessant glowering at his opponent. It was going to be a long day…

* * *

Dean approached Bobby later after the meeting was over, and asked him a question that was on the tip of his tongue the whole day. "Why?" he implored simply and rather childishly. Bobby sighed, and fidgeted with his bologna sandwich. "Dean, you really are a wonderful reporter. I'm not just saying that. I really mean it."

Dean whined at his boss. "But… why does it seem like I never get any of the breaks? How come he does?"

Bobby sighed again. "It's because you're not an asshole… entirely. You just don't have it in you. Michael… he can be a bit much… as I'm quite sure you're aware of."

As he spoke, Dean contemplated this thought, and promptly knocked the sandwich out of his boss's hand, with a defiant look on his face. Silence filled the hallway as the sandwich vendor stared in horror at his fallen masterpiece.

Dean immediately regretted it. "I'll just pick that up now…" he muttered, bending down to pick up the fallen sandwich.

He stood up just in time to see the networks most eligible bachelorette walk past them. Anna Milton wasn't what you would call beautiful… if there was a word that was even more powerful to describe beauty, then that was probably the word you would come up with. Everyone wanted her… well almost everyone. "Hi, Anna." Dean said politely, waving at her. But instead of waving back or even acknowledging him, she nodded her head to Bobby, and continued on her way. "Do you see what I mean?" whined Dean again.

Bobby saw Dean's disappointed face and thought of something. "Wait a minute. I think I know a way I could make this up to you." He said to Dean, who immediately perked up. "There is a story going on about oldest boat to sail through Niagara Falls, _The Maid of the Mist_. This boat is coming up on its 156th anniversary. And there is also a woman named Irene Dansfield, who is being interviewed; her mother was on the maiden voyage. They were already planning on having a segment on her. Why don't I send you to do it? What do you think?"

Dean beamed. This was his opportunity to prove himself. "You got it, Bobby! I got this covered! Thank you, thank you! You won't be disappointed!" Dean took off down the hall way to call Cas, leaving Bobby with his destroyed lunch.

* * *

Cas stood amongst the little kids he took care of over the course of the day, and smiled down at them. He loved kids; his own imaginative curiosity and playfulness making his job that much easier. However, Cas hadn't always been this way. Before he met Dean, Castiel had been a very quiet, reserved man, following his parents' orders blindly, going to school for accounting despite his indifference towards the subject.

Although he despised accounting, one good thing had come from his attendance: he met Dean. It was like fire from the moment they met. They completed each other, and it was Dean that got Castiel to break ties from his family's dictatorial rule over him and pursue his childcare license and business education. Now armed with his degree, Cas finally began his childcare services, and the two quickly evolved into a strong couple. Cas moved into Dean's apartment when they both graduated and they had been happily spoken for ever since.

While he was thinking about Dean, however, he noticed that one of the kids… yep the same kid… was eating paste again. "Oh, no, no, no! That's not to eat, Timmy!" he cried out, grabbing the container of glue from him. "Ew… ok, go wash your mouth out. And don't eat anything else on the way there… or it'll get stuck for good!" After he sent him on his way, he noticed a man standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

"Gabe! Come in!" he shouted, waving him over. When he approached him, the brothers gave each other a totally manly hug, back thumps and all. He laughed too, asking him why he was so happy to see him.

"Dude, it's been like two years since I've seen you." Cas said, hugging him again. Castiel had not been the only member of his family to break ties with the overly strict rules of their household. Gabriel had also left their clutches, keeping in close contact with Cas despite their long distance relationship. Now, his brother had moved into town, "to keep an eye on his little bro", as he said.

Gabriel grinned and thumped his shoulder again. "Glad to see someone's actually missed me. How's Dean? You're still with him right?"

Cas smiled, and nodded when he heard the phone ring. Pardoning himself, he turned and answered his cell, covering his free ear. "Castiel Novak speaking."

"Babe! Guess what? I GO LIVE!" Dean practically shouted into the phone, glee evident in his voice.

"That's fantastic!_" _Cas cried, "Where at?"

"I'm going live from Niagara Falls. This is it! I just know it!" Dean sounded happier than he had ever been for the longest time. Cas smiled to himself. Maybe the old Dean was coming back after all.

"You'll do great, hun. I'll make sure the TV is on when you go. Just let me know when, ok?" Cas asked. They said their goodbyes so that Dean could prepare for the biggest impact he would make on Eyewitness News. Too bad no one knew it would end so bad…

* * *

After his flight, Dean arrived at Niagara Falls and prepped the crew. He spoke to his supervisor Jo about the story, taking his microphone with a slightly trembling hand.

"Here," Jo said, handing him a raincoat. "We're going to actually sail by the falls so it's going to get wet."

Dean took the poncho without any sort of quip. He didn't care. He just wanted to make this the best broadcast ever. Shove that in Michael's pretty little nose!

Back at the day-care center in Buffalo, Cas flipped on the TV and waited for the broadcast to start. He crossed his fingers, and whispered a little prayer, wishing his love good luck.

Dean stood excitedly on the boat, fiddling with the corner of his raincoat and waiting for the time to come when he would begin his story. He felt so nervous! After what seemed like an eternity, Jo signaled him to prepare for the live feed back to the station. Dean watched on the prompter as the familiar opening segment to their news reel, and watched as Anna Milton and Zachariah Adler introduced themselves.

"Tonight we have a special segment feeding live from Niagara Falls done by our very own Dean Winchester, but before we get into that, I'm sure that all of you know, ladies and gentleman, that Zachariah Adler here is finally heading into retirement." Anna said, indicating the older gentleman next to her. "He's been with us for thirty years, so before we get into the segment I would just like to say thank you and good luck to our friend, Mr. Adler who will be finishing out the week with us."

Dean steeled himself for the live feed to begin, but stopped at this point. "AND, also I would like to take the opportunity to introduce to you all, the NEW Anchor that will be taking his place…. Michael Messenger!"

"Oh… oh God…" Cas gasped, bringing his hands up to his forehead in shock. Needless to say his reaction was quite mild compared to Dean's.

Dean's whole body went numb, as several feelings ran across his face: Shock, disgust, nausea, anger, sadness, more anger, and a little insanity to add to the brew. He didn't hear the crew give him his cue to start; he didn't hear Anna introduce him on the LIVE feed; he didn't hear Jo trying to get his attention; he didn't hear Michael schmooze up his opening statement as the new anchor, and steal HIS CLOSING remark he made on the giant cookie story; he didn't even hear his own squeak of shock. He just stood there, the camera rolling for the world at large to witness his shock.

"I'm sorry folks; it seems that we may be having a bit of technical difficulties." Michael stated, ruffling some papers on his desk.

Cas willed Dean to move, to say something, anything. He practically shouted at the TV screen, "Come on baby! Dean… SAY SOMETHING!"

Finally something snapped in Dean's brain and he yelped into his microphone, "Hi Anna!" getting a few relieved sighs from those watching. "It's a lovely day here at Niagara Falls, and let me just give my warmest congratulations to Michael Backstabber… erm, I mean Messenger down at the studio! And to everyone else down there, who has made this day possible for all of us, including myself… What a great way to end MY goddamn day don't you think folks?" Dean's squeaking was no longer squeaking. He was screaming full-fledged into the microphone.

Cas shook the TV screen, in utter shock. "Come on, what the hell are you doing?" He wasn't the only one shocked.

Everyone down at Eyewitness News stood riveted as they listened to the man rant and rave on live television. Dean reamed out almost everyone on the boat, and in the studio in front of millions of viewers before finally turning his attention to the camera. "So what does this mean for us, namely for me ladies and gentleman? I think it means that somewhere along the time span of my life, something important has eroded away to tatters, something important, just like these Goddamn rocks! Just like these Goddamn falls! So I say to you… thanks for the shitty time! I'm Dean Winchester, here for Eyewitness News! Back to you, FUCKERS!" and promptly flicked off the camera, before smashing his microphone on the deck of the boat, the camera crew cutting off the live feed.

* * *

Back at the studio, Dean was fired, and it wasn't pretty. He wasn't escorted out, or asked kindly to leave. He was picked up bodily, and heaved out the door onto the pavement, where the back of his head made contact with the cement with a loud crack. Soon to follow were his personal belongings, in a none-too-friendly brown box. He sat up, rubbing the back of his aching skull. He stared up at the building where he spent the last few years of his life at, rotting away doing stupid stories that never even made it to television, and muttering something about Wimpy Kiddy Baby Whiners. Trying to calm himself down, he picked up his box, and made his way back to his car.

He placed the box down on the ground, and fumbled with his keys, until he heard a small cry coming from the alley next door. He stopped and listened for a moment, before slowly making his way to the alley to investigate. There he found a homeless man being tormented by a common street gang. Dean rallied up enough courage to walk into the alley, shouting, "What are you doing? Leave him alone!"

The gang looked up at him, and snickered, before picking up the homeless man's stuff and tossing it into a dumpster. They took off down the alley, as Dean helped the man to his feet. "Yeah that's right, you better run!" he shouted at them, gaining a little too much courage for his own well being.

The leader turned on Dean like a rabid dog, and snarled at him. "What did you say to me, punk?"

Dean gulped, and stared at them for a moment before he decided that it would be a good time to panic. He turned tail, and took off back down the alley, but the burley group was slightly faster. They tackled him to the ground and started kicking and punching him senseless. He yelped and cried out in pain as they smashed his face into the pavement. Blood spouted from his nose, and he could have sworn he felt a tooth get knocked loose. Someone picked him up, and threw him into the dumpster, slamming the lid down on his outstretched hands.

He felt a massive migraine building, considering the circumstances. But they weren't finished just yet. He heard one of the gang members say something about his car, and he struggled out of the dumpster, looking like something put through a dull meat grinder. He stood there panting, as they turned back to him, away from his freshly keyed car.

"Man you don't quit do you?" they laughed before the leader threw a punch at him. With something akin to reflexes, Dean caught his fist, much to everyone's astonishment, including his own. The leader spat something in Spanish about his mother and using his other hand, gave an all out blow to his stomach.

Dean crumpled to the ground, tears mixing with the blood dripping from his nose, eyebrow and mouth. Yep, a tooth got knocked loose, he thought, feeling his left canine hanging on for dear life in his mouth. Lying on the ground, Dean saw the gangster pick up his box and upend its contents onto his face. Bits of broken glass and other debris fell about him, as they took off down the alley again, laughing.

He lay there for a few minutes, trying to slow his frantically beating heart. Every part of his body hurt, and every tiny movement set him off, groaning pitifully. Finally summoning some strength, he crawled into his car, and leaned his head against the steering wheel.

"Great… just great. This is what I get for helping someone." Looking up, he took notice of the homeless man, who held a cardboard sign up for Dean to read. It said some Scriptural crap about life being just.

Dean laughed bitterly, despite the pain in his sides. " Just? JUST GET A CLUE!" he shouted, pounding his fists on the steering wheel.

Finally gathering his stuff up, he started up his car, and went home. "Man", he wondered staring at his battered face in the rear view mirror, 'how am I going to hide this from Cas? He's going to freak out when he sees me.'

* * *

Dean was more than right. Cas had actually stayed up late, awaiting his partner's return. He held a glass bowl of water for Sam, filling it at the sink. When he turned around to look at him, several things happened at once. He stared dumbfound at him, dropped the bowl-full of water with a crash, and rushed over to him, laying him down on the couch with a box full of tissues to sop up the free flowing blood. All this happened within seconds, and Dean wasn't even sure how he ended up on the couch.

"Oh my God, Dean what happened to you!" Cas cried out, reaching for the telephone.

Dean knew what that meant. Cas had a tendency to get a little overprotective of him, and Dean wanted to prevent any unnecessary visits to a doctor for minor injuries.

"Cas, I'm fine. I got in a scrap outside of my job… ex-job…" Dean muttered, feeling some emotion boiling up inside him again.

Cas saw the tears welling in his eyes, and didn't bother asking about the job issue. He felt his own emotions screwing themselves up for release, and he asked quietly again, "Dean what happened?"

Dean explained the whole scenario about him getting thrown out of the building, and then helping the homeless man which only led to his ultimate beating.

Cas listened carefully, letting Dean express his frustration for a moment before checking him over for any serious injury. He found nothing worse than some bruises and only a few minor cuts. He looked a lot worse than he really was. "Thank God they didn't kill you!"

Dean tensed up, his sadness replaced by anger. "God? GOD? This isn't by God's protecting hand if that's what you think Cas! This whole damn situation is God's FAULT!" he growled, sitting up painfully, and pushing Cas away.

Cas felt his heart wrench painfully, and he reached out to touch Dean's shoulder. "Don't say that! God is the one who gave us everything we have!"

Dean stood up and turned on Cas faster than he intended. "HA! Is that really so? Then why does my life suck? Why does everything I work for get taken away? God isn't a protector, he's just a big… big… DICK!" he cried out, scrubbing at his eyes with his fist, trying to keep the tears from falling. In his rough ministrations, he accidentally opened up the cut on his eyebrow again. Cursing, he kicked at the table and knocked Cas' picture box off and across the room. "He's like some big kid with a magnifying glass, and I'm the little ant! He could help me whenever he wants to, but he's much rather have fun burning off my little feelers and watching me squirm!"

Cas stared at Dean, feeling hurt and mildly frightened. He had never seen Dean this outright pissed before. "But… you're alright now! Everything is going to be fine. I'm just glad you're ok…" he reached out and tried to pull Dean towards him.

Dean just wrenched his hand away, and hissed at him, "Do I look ok to you, Cas? NO I'M NOT OK! I'm tired of the whole 'God' issue! I look like raw hamburger, and I hurt all over! I'm not ok with any of this! I'm not ok with a mediocre job! I'm not ok with a mediocre apartment! I'M NOT OK WITH A MEDIOCRE LIFE!"

Cas reacted to this one with a small whimper. "So that's all I am to you? Mediocrity? That's all any of this is to you?" he added indicating the apartment.

Dean waved him off, uncaringly. "Don't make this about you!" he hissed, glowering at him.

Cas' eyes narrowed, "NO! This isn't about me! How could I make this about me? It's about you! IT'S AWAYS ABOUT YOU!"

Dean stormed to the door, reaching for his keys. "THANKS CAS! LET'S JUST MAKE THINGS THAT MUCH BETTER BY ADDING SOME GUILT TO THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!" he screamed, slamming the door behind him.

Cas rushed into the bedroom, and buried his face in the pillows, crying. They had never yelled at each other before, and he feared that this fight would only hurt their relationship. He lay there crying over the row, until, exhausted, he finally fell asleep.

* * *

A few minutes after he stormed out of the house, Dean found himself in his car again, driving anywhere to keep his mind off the anger he was feeling. He pushed the rearview mirror up so he wouldn't have to look at his reflection, and the hate that boiled in his eyes. He shifted in his seat, and felt something underneath his right thigh. Grabbing the object he lifted the red prayer beads into his line of sight in the dark, staring at them. 'They must have fallen out of my pocket from earlier,' he thought.

Grasping the beads in his hand, he held them up to his forehead, and turned his eyes up. "Ok God… I'm ready to listen. Please…. Help me with my life. It's falling apart. Please give me a sign." He stopped at a red light and saw a service truck pull out into the lane in front of him filled with warning signs for construction sites… many, many warnings signs. He followed the truck for awhile, too buried in his thoughts to care. "Come on God… just give me something. Anything to prove that you are still listening up there."

Dean sped up and passed the truck on the highway, and continued on his way. He passed a few construction billboards, warning drivers with its bright yellow CAUTION lights. Dean didn't even notice; his eyes had closed, until he heard frantic beeping, wrenching him from his thoughts. His eyes flew open, and he swerved to avoid hitting on-coming traffic. His wild turn spun him out on the slick pavement and he ended up connecting with a light post with a loud crunch.

"AH GREAT!" he shouted, pounding his fists on the steering wheel. He got out of the car in no worse condition than he was when he got in. The same couldn't be said for his car. "THIS IS GREAT!" Dean shouted, smacking his hands to the sides of his head. He felt something beaded against his right temple, before staring at his clasped fist. It was the prayer beads.

Roaring with hate, he threw the bracelet into the canal, and screamed into the night sky. "OK GOD! THE GLOVES ARE OFF, YOU BASTARD! YOU AREN'T GOING TO HELP ME, SO I'M HELPING MYSELF! I'M THROUGH WITH YOU! YOU HATE THAT? THEN SMITE ME WITH YOUR WRATH, OH MIGHTY SMITER!"

Dean fell to his knees, and knelt next to his car for a few minutes, panting heavily. Sudden he heard something ringing, pulling him from his revere. Tugging out his pager, he stared at the number on the front. 555-0123.

"I'm really not in the mood to talk right now, whoever you are." he muttered, exhausted. He managed to drive his battered car home, and snuck back into the apartment, where he found Cas sprawled on the bed. His lover slept soundly with his mouth hanging open, almost silent snores leaving him as he slumbered. Dean chuckled, but stopped when he noticed that his cheeks were tear-stained and splotchy. Dean sighed, feeling regret for yelling at Cas like he did. He didn't deserve that.

But too tired himself to wake him, he just crawled into the bed and wrapped his arms around his sleeping partner, glad for the first time that day that he was finally comfortable.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Almighty

Author: phar_ahkmenrah (HalfbloodAlchemist)

Rating: NC-17

Genre/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, humor

Spoilers: none for SPN, basic for Bruce Almighty

Warnings: Crude humor, language, sexuality and violence

Word Count:

Summary: Dean, a struggling news reporter, takes on the role of God, and has a hell of a time with his new powers!

A/N: I didn't keep to the original story of Bruce Almighty, completely. I changed it up to make it my own style, but kept to the original CONCEPT. I changed the script, and different parts to make it more original. I DO NOT OWN BRUCE ALMIGHTY, OR SPN! The respective creators own them.

**

* * *

**

The next morning, Dean awoke to the sound of soft beeping. He fumbled half in sleep to shut off what he thought was his alarm clock, but found that it was still silent. He opened his eyes, and sat up, grabbing that annoying pager again. There on the screen he saw the number from the night before: 555-0123.

"Well good morning, Mr. 555-0123.", he grumbled, staring at the pager. Moments later, that said pager was flying out of the open bedroom window, only to be obliterated by a sign post, and an oncoming car. Satisfied with himself, Dean made his way to the bathroom, but stopped at what he saw taped to the mirror. It was a picture a friend took of Cas and he cuddled on the couch sleeping together. Attached was a note that read _'I love you. We need to talk. Cas'_.

Dean read over the message again, realizing that he had left him sleep and left for work on his own. He felt guilty for the fight the night before, and wanted to call him to make sure he was ok.

But whatever sort of remorse he was feeling at that moment, those feelings flew out the window with the pager, as Dean turned just in time to see Sam lift his leg against the same damn chair. "SAM! NO! BAD DOG!" he yelled, grabbing him by the collar, and dragging him outside to the lone tree in front of the apartment. They both stared at each other for a moment, not moving. "Ok listen to me, dog. This is the bathroom. That is the house. Got it?" he demanded. The dog simply wagged his tail happily, panting up at his reluctant master.

Suddenly, Dean heard it again. That dreaded beeping sound. He looked out into the street and stared at the remains of his pager, ringing merrily amongst its own parts. He walked out to it, hoping it was just a mechanical malfunction as it died, but much to his chagrin, there was that number. 555-0123.

He picked up the pager, or what was left of it, and stared at the screen. 'Ok,´ he thought, 'this is getting a little weird.' Dean finally decided that it would probably be wise to call the number. Back in the apartment, Dean dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up. After two rings, an answering system picked up.

_Hello! Are you stuck in a dead end job? Is someone less talented than you reaping all the benefits? Is your name Dean? Then do we have the job for you! Just go to 77256 23__rd__ Street for the greatest job offer there is! So come on down or we'll just keep beeping you!_

Dean stared at the phone in his hand, dumbfounded. Frankly he was really freaked out, but decided that he would follow the answering systems order. Things can't get weirder, he reasoned.

Dean needed to learn that his assumptions were going to be the death of him.

* * *

About forty five minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of the building where he was instructed to go. He stared at the bleak façade for a moment, a bit deterred. "Well here goes nothing", he said mildly confident and stepped… directly into a deep puddle. He looked down at his boot and denim pant leg, glowering. "Aw now what is this?" he growled, shaking his foot, attempting to dry off his shoe and the bottom of his pant leg. But it was no use. He gave up and walked to the door of the building.

Stepping inside, he expected to see some sort of lavish décor, or at least a reception desk. But there was nothing. The floors, the ceilings, the pillars, everything was a rather dull white. The only other person he saw there was a middle aged janitor -short stature, scruffy beard and a mousey appearance- who busily mopped the floor. Dean took notice of the nametag, the words 'HI! I'm Chuck!' printed in big happy letters.

"The room you're looking for is room seven on the seventh floor." He said without even looking up. He indicated a room sign by the door that suddenly appeared next to Dean… or maybe he just missed it.

Dean examined the room sign, and raised an eyebrow, confused. All the rooms on the sign indicated room 7. "Gee… couldn't guess." he muttered, heading towards the nearby elevator. "I can just go up right?"

"Elevator doesn't work." the man said simply, pointing to the stairs. Dean shrugged his shoulders, and opened the doorway to the stair well. "Oh! I could use a hand here. Would you mind helping me?" the janitor asked, offering a mop to Dean.

Dean chuckled, but stopped at the serious expression on the smaller man's face. "Oh you mean that… well… I can't right now but… Rain check!" he offered the janitor who accepted graciously. "I'm free on the seventh at seven." He added, not thinking that he heard his joke. But the janitor certainly did, and made a mental note before continuing on his mopping duty.

Seven flights of stairs later, Dean arrived at room seven, panting slightly. To his surprise, he found it to be very similar to the one he was just in. The only difference was a large stepladder that stood under a missing tile in the ceiling.

"Hello?" he called out, wondering where the hell everyone could be. "Is anyone here?"

A voice called out from the opening in the ceiling. "Yes sir! But could you do me a favor, and check to see if this light comes on?"

Dean approached the ladder, and stared up, only to be blinded by a brilliant white light. "Yep, works fine!" he called up. "Kinda bright though…" Moments later, a small, mousey electrician came down the ladder and gave Dean a friendly smile. Wait a minute…

"So… elevator doesn't work huh?" he asked looking at the electrician. The man smiled at him again, and asked him if he was here for the interview. "Yes I am actually. Do you know when they will be coming?" Dean responded, looking around the empty room, skeptically.

"Oh he'll be here." the electrician reassured him. Dean turned around to look at the doorway, waiting for his interviewer. "So you came here for a replacement job eh?"

Dean flinched slightly, but regained his composer. "Yes… I actually got a call from here right after…" Dean stopped as he turned to look at the man. He was taking his uniform off, and underneath it was a suit so bright and so white that it almost hurt his eyes. He laughed. "So… musta been some budget cuts huh? You're the janitor, the electrician, AND the boss? One hell of a Christmas party I bet. Don't get drunk, though you may need a ride home!"

The man laughed along with him. "You always were funny, Dean. Just like your father… although he didn't seem to mind getting his hands dirty. Some of the happiest people are the ones that work the hardest at life. You see. You might not have known me, but I've known you since you were really little." He looked at Dean for a moment to see what he got out of him. Nothing. "Dean. I am God." he said simply.

Dean stared at him for a moment, trying to fathom if he was being serious or not. A moment later, the man who claimed to be God was watching Dean roll on the floor in fits of laughter. "YOU! YOU THINK YOU'RE GOD? DUDE THAT IS THE FUNNIEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD!" Dean stood up with some difficulty, clasping his aching stomach muscles, and wiping tears away from his eyes.

'God' continued to stare at him, stopping his laughter cold. "Oh… ok. Well then… I think I'll just go now…"

"Aren't you looking for a job?" 'God' asked, stepping in front of him so he couldn't leave.

Dean sized up the situation, and nodded his head slowly. "But… I don't have a resume or anything."

'God' smiled and walked over to a filing cabinet with his name on it, and laid his hand on it. "Ah, a whole filing drawer to myself. What's in it?" Dean asked, innocently.

'God' turned to the drawer and unlocked it. "Pretty much everything we need to know about you. And I mean EVERYTHING about you."

Dean's brow furrowed suspiciously, and he pulled the drawer open. He didn't expect what happened next.

The drawer shot out, knocking Dean backwards towards the other side of the room. He stared at the drawer as it slowed to a halt on the other side of the room. He stood up, shaken and pulled out a file from the front. Inside it were different files from things he said or thought… when he was two years old. "What the hell?"

'God' pulled out a file from the very back. "Winchester, Dean. Age: 30, Height/weight: 6'0"/169 lbs." Looking at the awestruck man for a moment, 'God' smirked, and continued. "When I said everything about you I mean everything about you. Everything you said, every thought, every action ever since you were born."

Dean's jaw dropped open. "What the hell dude are you STALKING ME?"

'God' ignored this and continued. "This last entry was particularly disturbing to me. '_God is a big dick! He's a big kid and I'm a little ant. He'd help me any time, but he'd rather have fun burning my feelers off and watching me squirm. Smite me, Oh mighty Smiter!'_"

"Ok just… just… tell me how you got all of this?" Dean demanded, as the massive filing drawer retracted back into the cabinet. He walked back towards him and stared at the little cabinet, far too small for such a colossal drawer.

God shook his head again. "I already told you I'm God." he repeated.

Dean refused to accept this. "Ok then… Prove it!" He hid his hands behind his back and held up four fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

God chuckled. "You know you're not supposed to test God right?"

Dean barked a short laugh. "Ha! You're too scared to prove it! Come on! Just guess!"

God rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Fine you want to play this game we'll play it. You're holding up four." Dean changed it to ten fingers, and he answered it correctly again.

"Ok then. Lucky guesses. Try and keep up with me." Dean said before holding up random fingers quickly. God kept up with him the whole time without even looking at him. Dean growled under his breath, before a supposedly "brilliant" idea struck him. He sneered at him. "Alright, hot shot. How many now?" He held up seven fingers behind his back and quickly changed the number to five.

"Seven."

Dean triumphantly held up his right hand to show how many he really was holding. "HA! FIVE!"

God raised an eyebrow. "Really?" pointing at his hand.

Dean looked at his hand and screamed. He had seven fingers on his right hand. "AUGH! Ewewewewewewewewew!" he squealed, shaking his hand violently, and running for the door.

"Dean, wait!" God shouted, and appeared before him suddenly, preventing his escape. "Before you go, I have a few things to tell you. If you think that you could do better at my job than me, then by all means, I'll let you take control for awhile. As soon as you leave this building you will be endowed with all of my powers. Also…"

Dean didn't even listen. He pushed past him, and ran out of the building, headed straight for his car. "Ok this isn't happening. I gotta get out of here!" In his rush, he didn't even notice his foot glide across the top of the puddle he sank in earlier, without so much as a give. He hopped in his car, and took off at breakneck speed. "Jesus Christ… he's just got me spooked." he reassured himself. "This isn't real. If he's God, then I'm Daffy Duck."

At the next stop sign, Dean sighed and checked himself in the rear view mirror. He immediately clasped his hand over the mirror with a yelp. "HOLY TTHIT I'M DAFFY DUCK!"

His hands flew to his face, checking to see if he was sporting a bill or not. Nothing felt altered. Peeking under his hand, his reflection showed that his face was now that of the cartoon character. "What the hell is this tthhit?"

Pulling off the road into a parking lot, he darted out of the car, chanting, "I'm Dean! I'm not a cartoon! I'm REAL!" He barreled into a diner, scaring everyone in there. "Oh um… hi. One please…." He muttered, taking a seat at the booth by the door. He slouched in the corner of the booth, fiddling with the menu but not really reading it. He felt hot and sweaty but a quick observation told him that he was clammy with nerves. When the waitress came to his table he asked for a cup of coffee, 'EXTREMELY caffeinated'. Dean grabbed the creamer and sugar, but noticed that he didn't have a spoon to mix it with. He turned to a man sitting in the next booth.

"Excuse me, do you have an extra spoo-" he started before suddenly gagging. Dean felt something hard and cold in his esophagus as he shoved his index finger and thumb down the back of his throat. With a sickening pop, he pulled a spoon out of his mouth. "Found one." Dean said sheepishly to the other man who looked away, slightly sickened by the sight.

"Here ya go hunny. Fresh brewed. I made it myself." The ditzy blonde waitress cooed, batting her overly painted eyelashes at him. She reached across Dean to grab the menu from him, and practically shoved her noticeable endowments into his face. She straightened up and smiled at him, a huge wad of pink gum in her teeth, then left to flirt with other regulars.

Dean stirred his coffee absentmindedly, and began to think about the events that took place within the last half hour. He wasn't sure but… he started to believe what that man was telling him. 'How could a drawer be that huge without some sort of compartment to hide it in the wall? It was solid concrete. And the spoon?' he thought to himself. Suddenly he had an idea. He waved the waitress over and asked for a glass of water with no ice in it.

"Sure thing hunny." The waitress brought the glass over happily, and left again. Dean contemplated what he was about to do, and decided to turn away from the other patrons so they wouldn't see him. Draining the last of his coffee out of the mug, he spilt the water into it, and closed his eyes, concentrating. Lifting the mug back up, he opened his eyes and began to pour the contents back into the glass. "Holy hell…" he whispered.

The first thing that hit him was the strong odor of alcohol. His smile grew wide as he saw the liquid he poured into the glass turn a deep purple. When he was done, he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. His suspicions were confirmed. He turned the water into wine.

"Having fun?" God asked him, suddenly appearing on the other side of the booth from him. Dean yelped again for an innumerable time that day, and dropped the glass. It shattered on the table and spilled on him, turning back into water before it hit him.

"Must you sneak up on me like that?" he asked weakly, trying to sop up water from himself and the table. God shook his head slightly, and with a chuckle asked Dean to follow him. "We have a bit more to discuss." God waved his hand, the wet mess and the broken glass absolving so that they could carry on.

* * *

"There were a few things I meant to tell you before you left, Dean." God said, slinging an arm around his shoulders as they walked.

Dean blushed crimson. "Well, having two extra fingers didn't exactly help. Kinda freaked me out a bit."

God laughed again, the sound infectious as Dean joined in, albeit rather skeptically. "Anyway," God continued, "before you go gallivanting across the world as some self proclaimed deity, there are two rules that you absolutely CANNOT break. One is that you can't tell anyone that you're God. You don't want the publicity, trust me. The second rule… you cannot mess with the free will. First off it is not right, second off it won't work anyway. So don't bother. Other than that you are free to use your powers anyway you want to. So what do you say? "

Dean pondered this for a moment, before looking up to see a schooner drift lazily past them. He looked around at the massive expanse of water around them before turning to face God with a smile. "Sure. Sounds like fun!" At this admission, God clapped him on the shoulder, and turned to walk away. "But… wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm taking a little vacation. Now that I got you to take care of things, I have time now." He bent down to pick up something floating in the water. Dean gasped to see that it was the prayer beads. "I think I'll hold onto these. They might come in handy later." God said before pocketing them. "Any other questions before I leave?"

Dean thought this over for a moment. "Yes. Now that I have your powers, does that mean that I can't be with Cas? I mean… y'know… 'be with Cas'? Cause I know you think it's wrong and everything, but…"

God cut him off. "Do you love him?" When Dean nodded, He continued. "Then I don't see why you couldn't be with him. You just are borrowing my powers; you're not actually me." He added with a wink. "Now if you get stuck or have trouble, you could just clear it up right away. Good luck Dean!" he yelled before he walked away across the water, leaving him with his new powers.

**

* * *

**

Back in the main part of downtown Buffalo, Dean walked back to his car, feeling happy and excited for the transformation. He passed a fire hydrant, and with a flick of his wrist, broke the main bolt on it, sending a fountain of water into the sky. He grinned widely at his little trick. "What else can I test my powers on?" he muttered, smirking as he watched the little children play in the fountain.

"Hey look Marquel! It's the punk again!" someone shouted from an alley. Dean turned around to see the street gang watching him. He raised an eyebrow, and approached them bravely. "You come around for another can o' whoop ass?" the leader asked, balling his fists up.

Dean raised his hands up in peace. "Nay. I only come to absolve you of your sins… if you would be willing to ask of it." he replied, righteous voice at the ready.

The gang stared at him for a moment, before bursting into laughter. 'Dude what are you TALKING about?" one of them asked through fits of laughter. Dean just rolled his eyes and waited for them to stop.

"Ok then, smartass. You want an apology?" the leader finally said to him. Dean nodded and waited for him to continue. "Alright. You'll get an apology… the day I turn into a hot pink rabbit. THEN you'll get your apology!"

Dean stared at the group for a moment before bursting into maniacal laughter, thoroughly freaking the ringleader out. "Really? The day you turn into a pink rabbit? How ironic is that? Because guess what day it is…" he finished, raising his hand up in front of him towards the now frightened man.

The gang leader esqueaked slightly, and dropped to the ground on all four, convulsing much to the horror of his crew. "Dude what the hell's wrong with you?" one of them asked, stepping backwards.

Dean continued to hold the man in his power, a smirk spread across his face. The gang leader's skin turned from light tan to magenta, fur blossoming across his skin. Another member shouted at Dean to stop, which he obliged happily. Unfortunately for the victim, by that time he was already a cute and cuddly little critter complete with a little blue bow wrapped around his neck.

"You were saying?" Dean asked, kneeling down next to the bunny.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! YOU WIN! IM SORRY!" the rabbit shrieked, hopping up and down frantically. "JUST… TURN ME BACK DUDE!" By this time the rest of the gang was already long gone, taking off as fast as their legs could carry them.

Dean waved his hand over the little rabbit, stepping back as the rabbit sprouted back into a quivering man. "Just try and think who you might be dealing with next time."

* * *

Cas sat on the couch by himself half reading a book, his eye trained on the door. He looked at the clock worriedly, wondering where Dean had gone to. 'Maybe he's still blowing off some steam.' he thought. He knew that he was upset the night before, but he didn't want to be the first to apologize either. He didn't do anything wrong except worry about him, he reassured himself. But still that didn't stop him from feeling guilty about the fight.

Suddenly Cas heard singing coming from the corridor outside their apartment. He couldn't make out the words so he went to the door to see who was singing. Through the peephole, he saw Dean, and he looked…. Happy?

Cas unlocked the door and swung it open, only to be swept backwards into a breath stealing kiss. He groaned slightly, and pushed Dean off of him for a moment. He noticed a look in Dean's eyes that he hadn't seen in a very long time. "Ok… who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" he asked.

Dean just laughed, and stood him up again. He pulled a large bouquet of flowers from behind his back and presented them to Cas with flourish. "What? I'm not allowed to dote upon my love once in awhile?" he asked, seeing Cas' eyes widen.

"WOW! These are beautiful! What are they?" he asked, whisking them into the kitchen for a vase of water.

Dean waltzed in behind him, and laid an arm around his waist. "It is a new breed of flowers. Cross pollination between a tulip and a daisy."

Cas turned to look at Dean, still a bit skeptical about his behavior. "Really, Dean. Last night…"

"I was only human." Dean said quickly, laying a finger on his lips to quiet him. He then replaced his finger with his lips, gently teasing his closed mouth with the tip of his tongue. Cas nearly melted. Dean ran his fingers through his lover's messy black hair, massaging his scalp and deepening the kiss.

Cas purred, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck.

"How about we dance?" Dean whispered, and he pulled away from Cas. The latter stood frozen, completely moonstruck by the kiss. Dean walked into the living room and with a clap of his hands, soft jazz music floated from their stereo system.

Waltzing out onto their terrace, Dean looked up into the night sky, and decided on a bit of renovation. He cleared all the clouds away, and placed a few extra stars strategically across the sky. Finally, he held his hand up to the moon, and gently pulled it closer to the earth, illuminating the sky in a brilliant white glow. He had just finished when Cas followed him out, and looked up into the sky with wonder.

"I have never seen the moon this big!" he gasped, as Dean leaned over his shoulder, whispering in his ear.

"Do you want the moon? Just say the word and it's yours, babe. I'll give you the moon." Dean cooed. Grabbing Cas gently around the waist, he began to waltz with him on the terrace. They looked into each other's eyes, and even Dean was amazed to see how big and beautiful Cas' sapphire blue eyes were.

"Dean_,_ I don't know what to make of this right now. I mean last night you were so angry… I was actually worried about us- I mean about you." Cas said quietly.

Dean looked away for a moment before speaking. "Cas… I wish I could tell you… but it's not the right time. For now…" he said before dipping Cas backwards, "I only want to hold you… to be with you… to love you." Dean leaned forward over Cas, kissing his exposed neck and chest. Cas moaned with joy, and turned his head up towards him to nibble gently on his ear.

Dean lifted him back up, the two kissing passionately in each other's arms. With the way their tongues caressed each others, and the way their bodies were entwined, Dean wasn't sure who would break and drag the other to the bedroom first, but if they remained locked in this kiss like they were, he was certain it was going to be soon.

Cas pulled away roughly, panting. "Give me five minutes!" he gasped, darting for the bathroom to freshen up. Dean, likewise, made for the bedroom to 'prepare'. He materialized lit candles across the room, and stripped down to his underwear, flopping on the bed.

Cas fumbled in the bathroom, doing everything in his power to prepare himself to give to his lover. As he worked, he heard Dean call from the bed.

"Don't rush yourself Cassy… sometimes the longer we wait, the more intense the PLEASURE is…" he emphasized, holding his hand up to the door.

Cas nearly collapsed on the floor. He gripped the countertop, his knees buckling under the sheer amount of erotic bliss that wracked his body. His cock gave an interested twitch, swelling with anticipation. "_Oh God_…!" he whimpered, standing back up with difficulty.

He looked at himself in the mirror and saw sweat beading on his forehead. He tried to wipe it away, but another; even more intense wave of pleasure swarmed his body, his legs giving away entirely. He had to catch himself on the sink again, but this time his legs refused to cooperate at all, dead weight under his aroused state. He pulled himself part way back up again, and leaned on the sink, panting heavily.

Dean smiled, feeling his own desires growing quickly. With his hand still poised, he closed his eyes and concentrated. He heard a small cry of sheer bliss from behind the closed bathroom door and smirked triumphantly.

The door slammed open, and in the wash of light stood Castiel's silhouette; Hair disheveled, panting heavily and stripped down to his boxers, he was ever the image of erotica, staring Dean down hungrily. He actually had to lean on the door frame to hold himself up.

Dean growled in his throat, and dashed over to him. He grabbed him and tossed him on the bed before straddling him and ravishing his body with kisses. Cas reciprocated by fondling Dean, whimpering with anticipation. His leg twitched, and he begged Dean to get on with it. Dean actually sneered at him before responding.

"Oh no…' he said huskily, "this part is much more fun… watching you squirm and beg underneath me… kinda gets me hot…." He stared at his body for a moment, taking in the sheer beauty of every curve of muscle, the flat planes of his stomach, the sharp edges of his hips, sinewy lines. He was beautiful!

Cas arched and squirmed under him, mewling. Sweat dripped off of Dean's chin and hit Cas' bare chest, mixing with his own. He licked it off of his skin, and trailed his tongue up Cas' neck to his lips. The sweat tasted salty and his fine stubble tickled his nose as he ran his tongue lightly over his mouth and neck. He felt Cas' hips buck madly up towards him, nearly driving him over the edge himself. But he held on¸ waiting to see what would happen next.

Cas finally had enough. He ripped off his own boxers, and forced Dean's down around his ankles. He wrapped his legs around his strong waist, press his erection up against his own. "I can't wait! Please! I'm going to be like this all night anyway, but please just DO IT!" he cried.

Dean smiled. Lying on top of Cas completely naked, and feeling his lover rubbing up against him desperately convinced him. And if Cas said he was going to be this horny all night, then more power to him. He looked into Cas' eyes again. "As you wish…"

Wetting a finger in his mouth, he quickly prepared him, licking his shaft enticingly as his scissored Castiel's hole open. Cas nearly screamed with bliss as Dean took the head into his mouth, nibbling the tip gently. "Oh FUCK! Oh, oh, oh!" Dean grinned cunningly, releasing Cas' erection from his mouth. Rocking forward on his knees, he leaned over Cas. Dean adjusted his partner, resting his lower body on his thighs so that Cas was positioned perfectly under him.

Dean leaned over him, holding himself up so that his face was only inches away from his, and teasing his entrance with his own erection. "What do you want?" he asked with a dark tone in his voice.

Cas moaned with want. "Fuck… me.." he whispered, trembling.

Dean leaned closer. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you…"

Cas growled, pushing himself towards him impatiently. "FUCK ME!" To which Dean obliged gladly, rocking his hips forward roughly.

The ensuing scream that came from both of them as Dean entered Cas echoed around the apartment, the two riding hard, fast and dirty. Dean pounded heavily into his lover, nipping and sucking at any exposed skin he could; Castiel mewling quite loudly as he pressed himself back and down, meeting Dean's thrusts by the number. It was unlike any other lovemaking they had done before; the intensity nearly drove them up the wall with want. They were so preoccupied they did not realize that they woke up Sam. The dog turned over and tried to ignore the heavy bout of love-making in the next room, burying his face in his paws.. 'This is going to be a long night', the Retriever thought to himself.

**

* * *

**

The next morning, Cas rolled over lazily and stared at the sleeping form next to him. He smiled and brushed his fingertips down the side of Dean's face before kissing him on the lips. Cuddled up next to him, they were both still completely naked from the night before, and he rather liked it like that. Just the touch of bare skin between them was enough. He knew that he was truly, deeply in love with him, and he knew that Dean felt the same way. He crawled out of bed, and got ready for the day before he woke up Dean.

Heading into the kitchen after a quick shower, he decided to make some breakfast. 'Something special', he thought, and quickly opted to make his famous French toast. He smiled to himself, and patted Sam on the head. Sam barked happily at the attention, and trotted into their bedroom where Tulio was just beginning to stir.

Dean rolled over, half asleep, and opened one eye. He could have sworn he heard talking. But there was no one in the room with him. He closed his eyes again, but there it was again, this time much stronger. Talking. And this time it wasn't one person. It was multiple people talking at the same time. He sat up and smacked the heel of his hand against the side of his head, clearing what he thought were the remains of a dream still ringing in his ears.

Sam stared at the sight for a moment, before deciding that it was time for a potty break. He lifted his leg against the chair in the room, but stopped abruptly.

"Sam… no." Dean said calmly, pointing at the bathroom door and closing his eyes in concentration. The dog quickly abandoned the chair and made use of the toilet, politely flushing, and putting the seat back down.

Dean chuckled just as Cas walked back into the room.

"Good morning, babe!" Cas said happily, kneeling down next to him. He laid his head in his lap for a moment and sighed, looking back up at him. "I haven't been this happy in a long time! Last night was amazing! It was…"

"Heavenly?" Dean added, ruffling his messy black locks playfully. "I know…." He added, crossing his fingers behind his back. He sniffed the air, and grinned. "It that what I think it is?"

Cas laughed and went out to the hallway where a tray of food waited. "I thought I would make your favorite for you!"

Dean smiled, with a hint of regret in his eyes. He felt like there was something more he could be doing for his partner. He was the one that always took care of him. It was time to do the same in return. "Cas, this looks incredible, but I have to hurry." He said, stuffing a couple slices in his mouth and heading into the bathroom for a quick wash.

Cas looked at him puzzled. "What for?"

Dean poked his head out from the bathroom for a moment, and smiled. "I'm going to get my job back. And as soon as I do, I'm going to do something VERY special for you!"

Cas, curious as always, eyed him suspiciously canting his head in confusion. "What is it? Come on tell me!" Knowing that he would try to resist, Cas screwed his face up into what Dean lovingly referred to as the Puppy eyes, hoping to worm an answer out of him.

Much to his astonishment, Dean resisted the look and kissed him on the nose. "It's a surprise. Besides, when you find out, I think you will be more than happy about it." he added with a wink.

Cas was then ushered out of the bathroom, quite puzzled now. _'What was he planning?'_ he wondered, looking at the close door for a moment.

* * *

Dean walked out to the parking lot of their apartment, and laughed. His car looked like hell. "I'm not going to impress anyone with THAT piece of junk!" he said, getting into the car, and revving the engine. Closing his eyes, he transformed his old car into a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala, an old classic he'd been dying to find for years. He settled into the leather interior, and made his way to the news fields where all the exclusive stories were being told. He was determined to gain his job back and more if all of his plans went accordingly…

* * *

After a "chance" incident with a police dog, a body, and 250 pounds of marijuana in a rival news center's van, Dean was back at Eyewitness News' network studio, accepting praise and many apologies for the firing in the first place. Dean accepted all of these graciously (silently thanking God… well himself now…), and went straight to the head of the department, Bobby himself.

Bobby paced his office, trying to think of an acceptable apology for Dean. "Well… just so you know it wasn't my idea to fire you in the first place." he stammered, sitting back down at his desk and facing Dean. He looked more confident and happier with himself than he had ever seen before.

Dean laughed, and waxed poetic, "Well all you have to do is give me the camera and the crew, and I'll deliver unto ye, an abundance of great stories for the network."

Bobby looked pleased with the news, and offered Dean the first exclusive job that came about, who accepted happily. He had his job back, and if he could help it, he was going to exact revenge on the only other man he detested…

* * *

Dean walked into the news room and hid by the sound boards to watch Michael and Anna open the daily news as per usual. He glared at Michael for a moment, loathing the fact that he was sitting in that anchor chair and not himself.

Suddenly he got an idea. An awful, horrible, deliciously EVIL idea! If he could pull it off without bringing attention to himself, he was going to totally screw Michael's career; no surprisingly, he was more than happy to comply with the little devil voice inside his head. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him. Finding the coast clear, he brought his hand up to his throat, and pinched it tightly, closing his eyes for a moment.

Right on cue, Michael's voice began to squawk and whine comically in the middle of a very serious topic, evoking many a giggle from those in the news room. "It seems that something is caught in my throat…." he squeaked weakly.

Anna, staring at him with some minor revulsion, handed him a glass of water just as Dean released the grip on his own throat. "Ah! Much better!" Michael sighed with relief.

Dean shook his head slightly. "Oh this is just getting started…."

Holding his hands in front of him in mock keyboard position, he began to type in midair, changing the words on Michael's prompter.

"And today the prime rib roast of Malaysia visited the White House, and my furry little nipples… went to… France…." Michael ended quietly, staring at his prompter with much confusion.

Dean bit back a laugh, continuing to fuck with his prompter, much to Michael's dismay.

"Um… I believe we may be suffering some technical difficulties." Michael said, fussing with his papers.

Dean noted with satisfaction that he was turning bright red, his rosy cheeks contrasting noticeably with his blond locks. Did that stop him? Hell no! He was far from being done. Dean raised his hand up to hide his mouth, and blew a raspberry. Michael reciprocated with a much less acceptable alternative.

Anna, now fully disgusted with her partner, tried to get the camera crews to focus the cameras on her, but to no avail.

'And now for the grand finale', Dean thought. He snuck a peek over his shoulder. Good, everyone was too focused on Michael to notice him. With a snicker, Dean mouthed random gibberish, forcing Michael to say every nonsense word he whispered. Michael stared helplessly at the camera, completely unable to control himself.

Finally having had enough fun for one day, Dean released the helpless Michael from his control and strolled away, whispering to another man, "Jesus you'd think people would take these things seriously."


	3. Chapter 3

Dean Almighty

Author: phar_ahkmenrah (HalfbloodAlchemist)

Rating: NC-17

Genre/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, humor

Spoilers: none for SPN, basic for Bruce Almighty

Warnings: Crude humor, language, sexuality and violence

Word Count:

Summary: Dean, a struggling news reporter, takes on the role of God, and has a hell of a time with his new powers!

A/N: I didn't keep to the original story of Bruce Almighty, completely. I changed it up to make it my own style, but kept to the original CONCEPT. I changed the script, and different parts to make it more original. I DO NOT OWN BRUCE ALMIGHTY, OR SPN! The respective creators own them.

**

* * *

**

"Really? Dean SENT you to do this?" Gabe asked, as he followed Cas into the spa.

Cas chuckled and handed the receptionist Dean's credit card. "Yep! I swear, it was like he woke up a totally different person." Cas replied, taking note of Gabriel's approval. "He said that tonight was going to be a night to remember and that I should pamper myself just for the occasion."

"And he said to bring me along?" Gabe inquired, as they made their way to one of the massage rooms. "Cause I swear, if I come out of this smelling like roses and crap, there'll be hell to pay."

The massage therapists welcomed them, and had them lay down on the tables. Cas nodded, and added wryly, "Do you know where he's taking me for dinner tonight?"

Gabe shook his head but paused in shock when Cas gave him a knowing smile. "YOU'RE KIDDING! THE BLUE IVY? God… you know what that means right?"

Cas felt a hitch of excitement in his chest, but played it off calmly. "Nah… you don't think…?"

Gabriel laughed. "Seriously! But you do know that you may have to go someplace else for the ceremony right?"

Cas pondered this for a moment, and then said jokingly, "Hell, I always wanted to go to Vegas. Besides… I don't even care if it's not a church wedding or anything like that… Just to be able to say that he's mine is enough for me."

Gabe said nothing. He knew how important a church wedding would be to him, but with the reality of life, knew that the chances of it ever happening were close to none. Besides, he didn't even know if Dean believed in God or not.

But as of that moment, that didn't matter. Gabriel was thrilled to see his brother so happy. Past relationships had been pretty bad on him, and his leaving the family didn't help matters. But unlike most people, Cas turned to his books and God when he was in bad shape. He was never one to be vengeful, and forgiveness was always an option with him. Still, it made him glad to see his little bro with someone who seemed to make him glow with happiness.

Cas sighed as the massage therapists did their work. "Well whatever. Right now, this massage is too damn good to waste", he said and closed his eyes, dreaming of the night that was to come.

* * *

Dean pulled the chair out for Cas chivalrously, grinning as his lover sat down with a smile.

"You really didn't have to do that", he said.

Dean shrugged, innocently. "What if I WANTED to?" he countered, grabbing the wine menu from their table. He asked the waiter for the white Zinfandel, and gazed at Cas across the table. He looked absolutely radiant. the candlelight illuminated his untamable hair and sapphire eyes with stunning beauty.

Dean was just about to grab hold of Cas' hands when the waiter came back with the desired drink. "Thank you very much, sir." Dean tasted the wine before pouring a glass for Cas. "I hope you enjoyed your day today." he asked.

Cas nodded, sipping the wine delicately. "I think even Gabe was enjoying himself, despite the frilly treatment," he joked.

Dean continued to gaze into Cas' eyes, feeling the same whirlwind emotions from his first encounter with the quiet man so many years before. But that was a long time ago, and then he hadn't even known if Cas felt the same way about him. After all, girls had always seemed to flock to the man, with his ethereal blue eyes, and mysterious looks seeming to hold secrets to love they sought blindly.

Dean, on the other hand, seemed to attract the shallow end of the dating pool. Girls looking for a one-night stand with a gorgeous, sarcastic man; even his male consorts found only enough heart to spend one night with Dean. He was gorgeous to be true, emerald eyes twinkling with mirth and wit, hiding his own seemingly witless sense of low-self esteem. Then his whole life changed the day he met Castiel, a quiet, smart, proud young man that stole the very breath from Dean. The two became fast friends, the yin to their yang; hardly separable as their relationship grew.

Even to this day, Dean wondered how he got so lucky. He remembered the day he gave his would-be partner a promise ring on his birthday, hoping Cas wouldn't throw it back into his face. He bit his lip as Cas slowly opened the package. There in the cotton tufts sat a beautiful silver band with etched designs all around it, and the words "The heart is forever" across the length of the band.

He ducked his eyes from sight, and waited for the laugh or to feel the weight of the package hit him as Cas threw it back at him, any signs of rejection. Nothing came. He peeked up and saw Cas gape with wonder at the ring.

"Is this…?" he asked breathlessly.

Dean nodded, turning away from him, beginning to think that it was a horrible idea, feeling stupid for thinking that someone so terrific would be interested in him. Much to his astonishment, he felt Cas slip his arms around his waist and pull him forwards for the best and most sought after kiss Dean had ever experienced in his life.

"Took you long enough!" Cas whispered, nuzzling his nose against his cheek. Dean melted deeper into his arms, all worries completely abandoned for this moment and the many more moments to come.

That was almost four years prior. Dean shifted his gaze from Cas' eyes, to the promise ring he gave him those years ago, still on his right ring finger. Cas followed his line of vision to the ring and gripped Dean's hand in his own.

"Do you remember when we first met? When I first saw you I knew we were going to be partners for the rest of our lives. But… I was too embarrassed to tell you. I figured that you had someone else that you were waiting for. That's why this ring means so much to me. It proved to me that we were really meant to be partners… lovers." he finished, gently caressing the top of Dean's hand with his thumb.

Dean laughed quietly. "That's funny. That's exactly how I felt about us. But for me, it was right from the start that I knew you were the one for me."

At this time the waiter came back to take their orders, and they continued to talk about everything and nothing. Dean felt that it was the right time now. "Cas… there is something I want to tell you… Something that will make both of our lives so much better in the future."

Cas looked up, his heart beating rapidly. "Yes? What is it?" he said, trying to keep his emotions in check. _'Oh my God, this is it!'_ he thought to himself excitedly.

Dean stood up and knelt next to Cas' chair, holding his hands to his chest. "Things are going to be so much better for us now. I promise you that."

Cas felt like he was going to burst. "What is it?" he asked again, eyes shining with happiness at the words to come.

Dean looked into his eyes, for a moment before proceeding. "… I got anchor!"

Cas stared at him for a moment, not really sure what to make of it. Suddenly his face fell slightly, and he felt all of his excitement deflate within seconds. "Wow… that's… Great!" he forced a smile.

Dean stood back up and sat down in his chair happily. "Apparently things weren't working out with Michael, so he's finishing up the week. I start Sunday!" In his bliss, Dean completely missed the disappointment in Cas' voice, and the frustration in his eyes.

'_Well… that was totally STUPID!'_ Cas thought to himself, busying himself with the wineglass in frustration. '_I got myself all worked up over nothing…' _

While Cas struggled with his own disappointment, things seemed to take a turn on their perfect night. Dean heard it again. The Talking. And it was even louder than it had been before. "Wow, kinda loud in here don't you think?" he asked, his voice louder than he intended.

Cas looked around the room at the people staring at them ruefully for disrupting their meals. "Dean… it's not loud in here. Why are you shouting?"

"I'm not shouting. I'm trying to be heard in here!" he said, this time even louder.

Cas sank into his seat, completely embarrassed by the scene on the other side of the table. "Do you think this is funny?" he hissed through his teeth.

Dean stood up, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the amount of noise rushing into his mind. "Um.. excuse me. I need to uh… get some fresh air!" he shouted, leaving the dining room.

Everyone in the room stared at Cas, who tried his damned hardest to melt into the floor if he could help it. "Sorry he's uh… new job stress!" he lied, making himself scarce. Dean would find him at home…

* * *

Dean made it out to the back alley, where he sat down by the cement steps and held his head in his hands. The noise in his head was almost unbearable, and he desperately tried to think of some way to get his head back on straight.

"It gets to be a little much doesn't it?" a voice behind him said. He turned around to see God sitting on the steps behind him.

"What is it?" he asked the Divine One. "Why do I have all these voices in my head?

God chuckled. "Those are prayers. You could tell if you listened once in awhile."

Dean shook his head skeptically. "This doesn't sound like prayers. It's all just noise!"

God laughed again. "No it's prayers. You just haven't gotten your priorities in line yet. Remember, you took this job to help other people not just yourself."

Dean looked down at his hands. _'I HAVE been a little selfish'_, he thought to himself. Finally he looked back up at God. "Ok… so what do I do to answer all the prayers in the world?"

God gave him a funny look. "That's not the world you're hearing. That's only downtown Buffalo. I figured the whole world would be a little much for a rookie like yourself."

Dean looked amazed, as God continued. "But I suggest you get started if you want to keep the noise from getting TOO bad. Think practical. Like a filing cabinet, or something. This time, you figure it out." God chuckled, disappearing, and leaving Dean behind to contemplate the ideas.

**

* * *

**

Back at their apartment, Cas turned in early, still smarting from the emotional distress of being embarrassed not once but TWICE in the same evening.

Dean hardly even noticed Cas slink into their bedroom for the night, contemplating different ideas on how to answer the prayers of millions of people. "Man… this was fun until now…" he whispered, thinking hard. Much to his chagrin, nothing came to mind.

"Come on Dean… think!" he muttered, tapping his forehead with the tip of his finger."Post-its? Maybe…" he snapped his fingers, and a swarm of little yellow post-its flooded the room.

"Uh… no not happening." he said quickly, and the little slips of paper disappeared. "Filing cabinets? No I hardly have enough room in here as it is." he decided before trying to fit thousands of regulation sized filing cabinets into such a limited space. After a few moments, a thought occurred to him.

"Duh! A computer!" he said triumphantly, materializing a brand new desk top into the living room. Rubbing his forehead with a smile, he sat down and logged onto the computer. "Greetings! You have 1,005, 478 New Prayers." a chipper voice on the computer said, opening his inbox. Dean stared at the e-prayers. "DAMN! Ok…. Well guess I better get started…" he muttered typing away into the night.

* * *

The next morning, Dean awoke, his cheek pressed firmly into the keyboard, a tiny puddle of drool on the desk. "Ow… not a good night…" he groaned, stretching his stiff back. "At least I made some headway…" he started to say before he looked at the computer.

"You have 4,670,218 New Prayers!" the computer said as if the whole thing was just a great big joke. Dean was not amused.

"Oh come ON!" he moaned, rubbing his eyes. "You people are WHINERS!" Grumbling to himself, Dean began typing again, completely ignoring Cas as he walked past him.

"Morning Dean…" he started, halting in his steps. Wheeling around he stared suspiciously at Dean and the new computer. "Where did you get the computer?" he asked.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Work." he said, not completely lying. He hoped that his half-truth would placate Cas enough to leave him be.

Staring at him, Cas waited, and waited… and waited. "Fine… 'Good morning to you too Cas…'" he sighed, walking out the door to work.

Dean didn't even notice. He leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. "This is ridiculous!" he complained, "There has got to be an easier way to do this!" He stared at the screen for a moment, and saw a button at the top of the screen he hadn't noticed before.

"Answer All…" Dean muttered, weighing the options. "Hmm… I could just do it manually… But I won't!" he laughed, clicking the button and walking away from the computer, satisfied with himself.

* * *

*Two days later*

The reception hall thrummed with music, as everyone there enjoyed the party Bobby threw in Dean's honor. Drinks flowed heavily, and tongues were loosened for the occasion.

"You'll never guess what happened to me… I WON THE LOTTERY!"

"No kidding! Well I lost almost twenty pounds already, and it just keeps coming off! I've been trying to lose weight for years!"

"Check it out! I got this brand new Rolex ON SALE! Only cost me $50. It was practically a STEAL!"

Dean smiled, listening to the people around him. He knew that he had answered a lot of prayer requests, and he was watching the happy faces of those around him. "Ok… granting people's wishes is pretty awesome…" he finally said, thinking that that was the kind of satisfaction God got all the time from this. However, he found himself enjoying the party less than he anticipated, despite the fun about him.

Dean found himself missing Cas' company, but his partner had refused, wanting only to sit a home alone. Cas had been acting really strange towards him, leaving Dean to wonder why.

"Oy! Dean! Come here for a moment! I wanna show you my new watch!"

Dean laughed and excused himself to the pay phone. He dropped in the money and dialed the apartment. "Come on Cas… answer; I know you're there." He said, rolling the cord between his fingers. No answer. Sighing, Dean deposited another coin, and waited…

* * *

Cas sat on the couch, brooding in the general direction of the television screen. He heard the phone ring again, and ignored it, flipping through the channels absentmindedly. He sighed, knowing it was Dean; frankly he didn't want to talk to him.

Cas continued to ignore the incessant ringing as he attempted to find something to watch. The answering machine clicked on, and Dean's voice came across the speaker, almost drowned out by the heavy music in the background. '_Come on Cas, please come to the party! I know you can hear me… Please?... Alright I'll talk to you later I guess.'_

Cas stared in the direction of the answering machine, waiting to see if the phone would ring again. To his surprise, the phone remained silent. Sighing again, he turned his attention to the television again, occupying his thoughts with Letterman and curling himself around a couch pillow moodily.

Back at the party, Dean stared at the phone for a moment. "Ok… Sam… time to work your magic…" Concentrating, he focused his energy through the telephone wires, and into their apartment.

Sam's ears perked up. He looked first at Cas then to the remote on the coffee table, the cogs in his little doggy mind wheeling. Padding across the floor, the dog nosed the remote off the table, and clicked the Search button.

"Sam! No, don't do…" Cas started, reaching for the remote. He stopped when he saw what was on the screen. James Stewart was professing his love to Donna Reed on the screen, reciting that famous quote _"__What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary."_

Cas watched fascinated, and looked back at the phone. Dean had said the same thing the night they danced in the moonlight. Against his better judgment, Cas began to consider going to the party. "Maybe it will be somewhat fun…"

**

* * *

**

Anna Milton weaved her way through the crowd, towards the pay phone. She had seen Dean from across the room talking into the payphone and looking a bit flustered. She smiled, and pulling herself upright more, strutted over to him with all the confidence in the world. "Hey… what are you doing over here all by your lonesome?" she asked in a low voice.

Dean looked up from the phone, and almost dropped it in surprise. Anna had never even said a word to him in passing, and now here she was, striking up a conversation. "OH! Hey Anna. Not much I was just…. Talking to Cas."

Anna nodded slowly, grabbing the phone from his limp hands and placing it back on the hook. "Oh really now? Why are you worrying about him? You're at a PARTY. Enjoy yourself for once." She replied, her hazel eyes dancing with mischief.

Suddenly, Dean found himself in her arms, pushed up against the wall rather roughly for a woman her size. She stared at him, lust overflowing from her very being. "Come on Dean… why do you put up with such a prude all the time? Have fun!"

Dean wriggled an arm free and tried to push her away. "Well, look here, I just called Cas to come to the party… So I really don't think I should have any sort of temptat- er… distractions right now…."

Despite his protests, Anna pressed forward, her lips inches away from his. "I mean it Dean…. You really deserve better… like me. Forget Cas." Having made her point, Anna surged forward without another word, pressing her lips firmly against his and licking her way into his mouth with abandon.

Dean's eyes widened in shock, as she pressed forward, her tongue finding its way into his mouth. Her hands traveled down from his chest to his pants, wriggling under his belt. Dean squeaked (he'll never admit to it, so don't bother asking), as she touched him. He felt himself grow hard involuntarily, bucking his hips slightly in her unwanted ministrations. "Anna.. wait…"

"So… you really wanted me at this party, didn't you?" A voice spat angrily, wrenching both of them from the moment.

Dean's eyes flew up towards the voice, and he practically threw Anna off of him in his haste. "CAS! Ahh… I-I… please…" Dean stammered, completely at a loss to explain himself.

"Shut up… just SHUT UP." Cas shouted, turning away from him, and storming towards the exit.

"CAS!" Dean cried out, running after him in lost hope that he'd understand.

Anna leaned against the wall, smirking. "Couldn't take the competition…"

Outside the reception hall, Cas marched over to his car, fumbling to get his keys out. He was so angry his hands shook violently, the keys slipping from clammy fingers. "Fuck!" In his frustration, he didn't notice Dean approach him until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, halting him.

"Wait! Please, let me explain!" Dean gasped, gazing into his partner's eyes pleadingly.

Cas spun around angrily. "Hey, Dean I TOTALLY understand! Why don't you do something NICE for me now that you got your stupid fucking ANCHOR position, and buy me something really expensive! Like a brand new sports car or a boat! Hey I like that idea. BUY ME A BOAT DEAN!"

"Cas, please. Let me explain. She came onto me! I didn't want her to …" Dean begged, but it was no use.

Cas hissed through his teeth, "Well that's pretty funny, because it didn't look like you were putting up much of a fight. So what is it, Dean? A real romance? Is she better than me? Or is it all for the money? Because obviously, BETTER partners like Anna want material things. Just forget about the fact that all I want from you is love, and to be **with** the man I love for the rest of my life. No, if you really want a better relationship, why don't you buy me something only a **WOMAN** would want!" Cas turned away from Dean, his chest heaving with the exertion of his roiling emotions. He wiped furiously at his eyes, tears streamed down his flushed cheeks.

Dean reached out to touch him. "Cas, please…"

Not waiting to hear, Cas spun back around, open-handedly striking Dean across the face with all of his might.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he screamed, shoving Dean as far away from him as possible. Slamming the car door open, Cas got in, and revved the engine. "You watch Sam until figure out what to do with the apartment. I'll be at Gabe's." he snarled, speeding away from the reception hall, a dazed Dean staring at retreating taillights.

"Obviously, that didn't go as planned." God said, appearing by Dean's side.

He didn't even blink.

The sky cracked with lightning, and a downpour flooded the streets. "But… he'll… he'll take me back." Finally looking at God, Dean stared expectantly at him. "Right?"

God only blinked, and turned away. "Would you?"

Dean groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I really screwed up… How am I going to convince him to forgive me?"

God laughed a short tuneless bark. "Well… when you figure that out, you let me know…"

* * *

*one week later*

At the day-care center, Cas took the children out into the yard to play. It was an absolutely beautiful day, but he only wanted to sit and stare at the table, while child-like shrieks of joy filled the air. It had been almost a week since he caught Dean with Anna, and he still wasn't over the initial shock. Every time he thought of how Anna pressed herself up against him, and Dean RESPONDING to it, he felt like he wanted to throw up.

Cas held his head in his hands, wishing that this whole week hadn't even happened. He knew he was losing sleep over it; Gabe actually had to force food down his throat, but… he'd broken up with Dean, right? He shouldn't feel bad about the whole thing. It WAS Dean's fault, after all.

Castiel groaned at this thought, guilt rotting him from the inside out. Every time he tried to convince himself that he was in the right, another wave of loneliness and hate filled him. Damn him…

As he pondered, his mind wandered to other strange happenings, following his discovery of Dean and Anna, and he frowned. He shouldn't believe in such a thing, but it seemed that ever since their break-up, he'd been finding almost childish signs everywhere, bidding him to return to Dean's side. Everything, down to the littlest scrapings in wood of their initials to hearts in the clouds seemed to follow him wherever he went. He played it off to lack of sleep and food, but sometimes he wasn't too sure.

He was still trying to fathom all of this when he heard the children talking to someone on the far side of the playground.

"COME ON, MISTER! PLAY WITH US!" they cheered, swarming the stranger with their sheer numbers.

Cas looked up, and groaned. It was Dean, surrounded by the children, and they were begging him to play catch with them.

"Kids, really I would love to, but I have to speak with Mr. Novak for a moment." Dean said finally, breaking out of the crowd of youngsters. He spied Cas sitting at the picnic table and made his way over. "Hey…" he started, voice cracking with nerves.

"Hey…" Cas muttered, trying not to look at him. They stood for a moment, not speaking, the tension growing beyond bearable.

After a few minutes, Dean broke the silence, wringing his hands worriedly. "So… how's everything?"

Cas shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. "Fine I guess… I went out with Nick last night. He took me to dinner and to go see that new movie downtown."

Dean winced. He hated Nick with a fiery passion; that smug, pompous bastard. Dean knew that he had been trying to worm his way into the dating scene with one Castiel Novak, trying to undermine Dean. It looked like he didn't have a hard time after all; not after his totally asinine evening with Anna. But he played it off cool, and continued the conversation. "Oh, really? So… did you do anything else?"

"Dean, why are you here?" Cas finally snapped, already tired of the conversation.

Dean cringed. "I-I.. just wanted to see you." he finally said, helplessly. He deflated at Cas' unbelieving laugh. "I mean it! I just wanted to see you… and I was hoping you would want to see me…"

"You? Oh that's rich… really what gave you that idea?" Cas laughed bitterly, turning away from him to gather the kids up.

Dean, not willing to give up so easily, jumped in front of him. "Because I'm sorry! And I want you to forgive me! Didn't you see the signs… ah I mean.."

Cas looked at him, incredulously. "So you know about those? What, are you involved in something I should know about now? Because now would be a good time to tell me!"

Dea stared at him helplessly, wishing beyond all reason that he could tell him; wishing that he could reveal his secret and bring Cas back into his life. He only shook his head, and turned away.

"That's what I thought…. Come on kids! Time to go back inside!" Cas called. He started herding children into the doorway, when suddenly, from behind him, he heard Dean call out.

"WAIT!"

Cas rolled his eyes, and turned back to him. Dean was standing on the picnic table, holding his hands out towards him, eyes closed. "Ok, seriously Dean… what are you doing?"

Dean ignored the question. "Well... what do you think of me now?" he said, trying with all of his might, to change Cas' feelings.

The latter only crossed his arms. "I think you're being a moron. Are you drunk?"

"Only drunk with power! Please Cas… love me… Love me… LOVE ME!" he begged, sweating under the strain of attempting to control Cas' emotions. But it was no use.

Cas stared at him, lament flashing through his eyes for a moment, before it was replaced with the stale anger that haunted his eyes for the past week. "I did…"

Dean dropped his arms, and flopped down onto the bench, watching Cas walk away from him for the last time. "Right… I forgot… free will…"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Dean Almighty

Author: phar_ahkmenrah (HalfbloodAlchemist)

Rating: NC-17

Genre/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, humor

Spoilers: none for SPN, basic for Bruce Almighty

Warnings: Crude humor, language, sexuality and violence

Word Count: 23,724

Summary: Dean, a struggling news reporter, takes on the role of God, and has a hell of a time with his new powers!

A/N: I didn't keep to the original story of Bruce Almighty, completely. I changed it up to make it my own style, but kept to the original CONCEPT. I changed the script, and different parts to make it more original. I DO NOT OWN BRUCE ALMIGHTY, OR SPN! The respective creators own them.

A/N the second: this last part has unrequited Castiel/Nick in it but predominately Destiel

**

* * *

**

Dean bustled into the newsroom, fussing with his tie**. **It was almost time for the news cast to start, and this was his first day as the new anchor. Bobby ran over the list of stories for that night's news. Dean read the sheet, with growing dismay. There were over 1500 winning lottery tickets turned in just that week, and the crowds were certainly not pleased with the outcome. With so many winning tickets, each person was only able to receive $20 or less for their tickets, which resulted in violent rioting.

From the weather standpoint, there were so many vicious storms for the past week that numerous power circuits were shut down entirely. The only explanation to the freak storms was the remarkable lunar behavior, which Dean knew was also his fault. The freak lunar behavior caused a lot of due upset, in which people believed that there was some divine goings-on, and that the world were coming to an end.

"I don't know what to make of it Dean. It's like the whole world has gone mad." Bobby sighed, clasping his shoulder.

Dean simply grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, Bobby… I don't know what to make of it either."

"We'll don't worry about that right now… We'll just go on with the news cast tonight. You'll do great. Now get going, the feed is about to start!"

Dean nodded and rushed over to the desk, trying to ignore Anna's inviting glances. They watched as the cameraman counted down to the live feed, and gave them the Go ahead. It was then that the power decided to go off, quite inconveniently.

"What the hell?" Bobby roared, rushing out into the room. "SOMEONE GO CHECK THE ELECTRICAL CIRCUITS!"

Dean brought his hand up to his forehead, forcing the lights flickered back on. "Come on! Let's just get this over with!" He demanded, as everyone hopped back into place. "Good evening, Buffalo, and welcome to…" Dean started, when the lights flickered back out. "WHAT THE HELL?"

An unseen somebody rushed into the news room, frantic. "Uh guys I wouldn't worry too much about the power. We have a bigger problem. There is a huge mob outside the news studio now! They're rioting about the faulty lotto tickets! What are we going to do?"

Dean looked around at people in the emergency red lights, and saw fear on everyone's faces. "This isn't happening… I gotta go!" he shouted, vaulting over the desk, and running outside.

Another freak storm had blown up, and he found himself in the middle of an outright fray in the streets. He looked around at the madness culminating outside Eyewitness News, completely at a loss. Someone threw a Molotov cocktail at the building, and a fiery explosion blew out several windows. Angry people, beating each other senseless in the streets, rushed the building, and he could hear similar happenings all over town. Shrieks of anger and fear filled the air, drowned out by clap after clap of thunder, lightning piercing the sky. People ran through the streets, wielding anything they could get their hands on, shouting, "THE END IS HERE! THE END IS HERE!"

Dean fell to his knees, soaked through by the rain. "No…" he whispered, "This is all my fault! THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!"

Standing up quickly, Dean ran through the streets towards 77256 23rd St. He burst through the doorway, and darted up the stairs to the seventh floor.

"God! GOD WHERE ARE YOU? I NEED YOU!" he yelled, standing in the silent room, alone. Dean waited for a response, but none came. No one came when he called. Dean dropped his head in defeat, fearing the worst when suddenly he heard a squeaking noise behind him. He whipped around to see God the janitor, mopping the floor.

"See I told you, you would come on time."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, still glad to see him despite his confusion.

God turned to face him. "You're rain check remember? The seventh at seven."

Stunned, Dean glanced down at his watch. Sure enough, it was seven pm on the seventh of that month. "I'll be damned…"

God walked over to him, and handed him a mop with a smile. "Come on… let's get to work."

* * *

Dean and God finished mopping the floor, and he was surprised to find that he felt much better after his scare in the studio.

"See Dean… there is nothing like a good clean slate to give us the will to fix our problems."

Dean nodded in agreement, rolling his sleeves back down around his wrists. "I am so sorry things got out of hand…" he apologized, looking embarrassed towards God.

He simply laughed. "Don't worry I know exactly what it's like. I went through a time myself, where everything I did seemed to go wrong."

Dean looked at God with awe. "YOU?" This reaction made Him laugh.

"Oh yes! Don't you remember the Old Testament? Everything I did seemed to go wrong. But then the birth of my Son came, and I was able to start all over again… just like you have."

Dean gazed at him, amazed that such a powerful being would admit any sort of weakness.

God patted his shoulder. "Now what are you waiting for? Don't you think it's about time you went and fixed up things around here?"

Dean smiled at him and turned towards the door. "God… Thanks." He whispered, leaving to right his wrongs.

God shook his head affectionately. "He's still so young… he'll learn."

* * *

The next day, Dean got into his car, feeling revitalized from the night before. He had already canceled all incoming e-prayers on his computer, only answering the ones that were absolutely necessary, and fixed the issue with the lottery tickets. Dean knew he still had a lot to do if he wanted to fix everything he had done, but he didn't care. His first objective: apologize to Michael.

"These powers got me into a lot of trouble," he said to himself, "so the only time I'll use them is when it is absolutely necessary."

A few moments later, Dean found himself in some backed up traffic. He stuck his head out the window, and saw the cause of the back-up. A man's car had broken down in the middle of the road. He half wanted to fix the problem quickly, so he could be on his way, but stopped himself. "No powers…" he whispered, getting out of his car. He walked over to the man, and asked him if he could help at all.

"Oy! Thank ye so much sir!" the man said, obviously foreign in nature. "I don't know what to make of it, but it seems me car just stalled. Could you help me push it towards the side o' the road?"

Dean nodded his head happily, and allowed the man to get in the car and put it in neutral before he started the long trek to the side of the road. "Steer it a little closer to the curb!" Dean shouted, watching traffic pass them by with obvious annoyance. "Yeah! That's good! Ok hit the brake!" The man got out, and lifted the hood of the car for a moment. "Thank ye so much for helpin' me. What's your name?"

"I'm Dean… glad I could help you, dude!" he replied genuinely, pulling his cell phone out. "Would you like me to call a tow truck, Mr.-"

"Aye just call me Richard! And that would be grand!" he said, observing the inside of the car. "Ah I see the problem right here! I work on cars myself, but I obviously can't do a bleeding thing here, now can I?"

Dean laughed, and dialed the number of the nearest towing company.

"Aye thank ye sir. I got it from here. God bless!" Richard said, getting back in his car long enough to grab his things.

Dean smiled to himself, waving at him for a moment. Richard smiled back, beeping the car horn in return. Dean chuckled as he returned to his own vehicle, feeling rather proud of himself. "Well… no powers and I was able to help someone… I think I should do this more often."

* * *

At Eyewitness News, Michael stood in his office, holding a brown box with his personal belongings in it. He stared at himself in the mirror, sighing. He knew that he was probably never going to find another job like the one he had.

In the silence, Michael heard the door opened, turning in time to see Dean step inside.

"Hey Michael. You got a minute?"

"Well hello there, Dean. Did you come here to gloat over the job?" Michael grumbled, not looking at him. "Well, get on with it."

Dean ignored the remark, and laid a stack of papers on the empty desk. "Actually I came here to give you the anchor position back. You really deserved that job more than me… I'm sorry I was a jackass."

Michael turned around, staring into Dean's eyes. "You really mean that?"

Dean smiled at him. "Oh, yeah. I already talked to Bobby… I told him that the position was just too much for me. So I settled back into my old job. Yeah it's not as grand as yours, but… what the hell, I had fun with it last time; might as well do something that's worth the laughs." Dean held out his hand. "I never really congratulated you properly… Congratulations."

Michael stared at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. "God… Dean… thank you. Thank you so much." He grasped his hand firmly, and smiled. "And I'm sorry I was an asshole to you too. Actually… I like watching you're newscasts… they're really funny."

Dean laughed. "So I've heard. Well, I think you better settle into you're 'new' office, Mr. Messenger. Thanks for taking the time to listen to me."

Michael smiled again. He laid the box down on the desk as Dean walked out of the door. "God bless him…"

* * *

"Ok Sam… this is it. Come on you can do it!" Dean urged. Sam stared at him for a moment, before turning away. Dean watched with anticipation.

Finally after what felt like eternity, Sam completed his objective… he lifted his leg on the tree that Dean had disguised with a piece of cloth from the chair in the apartment. "YES! YES! SAM, WE DID IT!" Dean cheered, jumping into the air. Never had he thought a dog peeing on a tree would be so rewarding…

"Having fun?" a snarky voice snipped, bringing Dean back to reality.

He turned towards the voice and saw Gabriel staring at him with annoyance. "OH! Hey Gabe, what's-"

"Cut the crap, Winchester. I came here for Cas' things." Gabriel snapped, ignoring his chance for small-talk.

Dean's face fell, and he slowly followed him inside with Sam. He knew the day was coming when Cas would move out of the apartment after the incident at the party… he just wished it wasn't so soon. He still wanted him to come back to him, terribly, and wished that there was something he could do to change his mind.

Gabriel bustled about, throwing everything she could find into a duffel bag.

Dean watched sadly, feeling his heart shrivel up at the sight. Everything that Cas had left behind was disappearing into that duffel, most likely for good. "So what's been going on with Cas?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"He's been going out regularly with Nick." He said coldly, not caring whether that news hurt him or not.

Dean flinched. How he wished that Cas were there, so that he could throw his arms around him and beg him for forgiveness. He imagined how Castiel would forgive him, and they would kiss… just like they used to.

"But… I don't think he really enjoys it much." Gabe added, looking thoughtful.

Dean looked up hopefully. "Really? How so?"

"Well I think it's pretty obvious when after every date he comes home and takes a hot shower just to get the smell of his cologne off. Now where does he keep his Shakespeare collection?"

Dean pointed at the desk, watching that, too, disappear from sight. He looked away. "But I mean…. Is he ok?"

Gabe stopped at the doorway, the duffel bag now bulging with Cas' belongings. "Dean… you know what I do every night before bed? I snag a few drinks, watch too much Letterman and eat a pint of Haagen-Dazs, all the while planning the next time I can get off work to hit the local club. Do you know what Cas does?"

Dean shook his head, waiting for Gabe to continue.

"He prays. Every night. I hear him in the room next to mine. Most of the time he prays for you… That's something to think about…" he said finally before turning away from him and walking out of the doorway.

Dean stood riveted in the living room. "He prays for me?" he breathed, completely dumbfound at the revelation.

Turning quickly to the computer, he logged on and opened up the e-prayer browser. "Find Prayers-Castiel" he said, typing it into the search engine. Thousands of prayers popped up under Cas' name.

"Damn… he prays a lot. Let me narrow the search some more…" he said, typing in the specified fields. "Find Castiel-Dean." Another window popped up, hundreds of prayers that Cas had prayed for Dean.

"'_Dear God, Dean seems to be terribly stressed lately; give him strength.'… 'Dear God, Dean is having a hard time with his job; please help him…'_" and so the prayers went. Dean read on, tears welling in his eyes. If he had known…

Dean read Castiel's prayers well into the night, his eyes growing drowsy. At about two in the morning, he jolted awake at the sound of the computer blipping; a new window popped up, catching his attention.

"Huh? An incoming prayer?" he said, looking at the author. "It's… It's him! Oh my God, Sam it's him! He's praying right now!" he said, reading the prayer as it came up on the screen.

"_Dear God, please help me… I really need you right now…"_

* * *

Dean found himself outside the restaurant Cas was currently at on his date. After reading the beginning of Cas' prayer, he didn't waste time going to where he was. Blinding all eyes from his presence, he watched as Cas walked out of the restaurant, slipping along the sidewalk silently.

Dean knew that Nick was inside, and that Castiel had slipped outside to get away from him, if only for a few stolen moments. Dean edged closer to Cas' side, hoping to offer some sort of spiritual comfort as he listened to his love pour his soul out in words meant for a higher being. With gut-wrenching guilt, he noticed that Castiel was crying, burying his face in the crooks of his elbows as he sat alone on the curb, begging for salvation.

"Please God… please… help me. I don't know what to do anymore!" the young man whimpered, his voice muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. Tears stained the cloth, but at this point he couldn't find the will to care anymore.

Dean listened intently, wishing that he could comfort him in any way possible. Instead he decided to wait and listen to his prayer, the one thing he should have been doing the whole time.

"Please… help me... I-I still love him… I still love Dean!" He wailed finally, lifting his head to gaze mournfully up at the star-speckled sky.

Dean felt his heart leap with happiness, but he stopped cold at the words that followed.

"B-but… I DON'T WANT TO LOVE HIM ANYMORE! I don't want to hurt anymore! Please… help me stop hurting. Whenever I think about him, it feels like my heart is just being ripped out of my chest. Help me forget him… help me let him go! Help me get over this pain in my heart… help me let him go…"

For Dean, those simple words spun his world completely awry, a spiral of hopelessness that even the power of God couldn't stop. He watched in shock as Castiel cleared away the tears on his cheeks without much success. He watched him stand and walk away for the last time, any hope for forgiveness dashed with Castiel's final prayer.

He knew it was over…. Everything he had with him was over… and it was his fault. With these thoughts, Dean lost all control. He broke down finally, tears flooding down his cheeks without hesitation. "I fucked up… I ruined everything! I lost the one person I loved with all of my heart… and it was my fault…."

Dean felt raindrops begin to fall, but he didn't care. Numbness engulfed him as he got to his feet, the overwhelming loss blocking out any other sense of coherency as he trudged away from the restaurant, leaving his lover behind for good. He felt no emotion other than misery as the rain soaked him through. He walked and walked to nowhere in particular, letting his feet guide him blindly. Tears streamed, and his shoulders hitched with his sobbing.

Somehow he found his way to the other side of the city, the torrential rain still coming down. He looked up at the sky, falling to his knees in the middle of the highway.

"Alright… you win God… I'M DONE! I GIVE UP! I don't want to do this anymore. I can't! Whatever it takes, just… just DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS ANYMORE! I SURRENDER TO YOUR WILL!" he wept up towards the sky, towards God. As if a sign were cast from above, Dean suddenly felt himself bathed in a brilliant white light, blinding him.

He looked up to the sky, feeling the light illuminating his body. Everything went silent. He felt drained, weak, lost. The light grew brighter as he surrendered himself entirely to the heavens. It was a Godsend, it seemed, a small smile gracing his damp lips.

But it was not the light of heaven that had engulfed the weary man. A loud, braying siren blared in his ears, snapping him back to reality. Dean realized too late that the light wasn't coming from the heavens… it was coming from a semi-truck.

Dean watched the impending impact, time slowing almost to a standstill. Tires squealed in protest to the sudden change, trying to stop the behemoth in its deadly path; but it was no use. The ground was just too slippery for the truck to stop. Dean couldn't even find the strength to get up or even try to save himself. He simply watched the truck close the gap between them. "There's no point… in even trying…" he whispered, feeling himself yield to death. Without Cas, he felt dead already.

The truck slammed into his body, crushing his being with sheer weight and momentum. Dean felt the impact smash his face, his ribs; his whole being crushed beyond repair. He felt no other sensations, nerve endings firing off one by one before paralysis ravaged his body, all before the final impact to the unforgiving ground below.

'_It's over for me… but not for Cas…'_ Dean's mind reasoned as he gave up all will to live. He hit the ground with a wet squelch, his skull cracking against the pavement before he moved no more. Pale green eyes glazed over, stared eternally into the stormy sky, and his dying breath a whisper on his lips.

"Cas…"

* * *

Outside Gabriel's house, Nick's car sat silent, front seats vacated of passengers. The same could not be said for the back. The windows were fogged and misty, motion inside almost indiscernible in the dark.

Cas lay across the back seat, his shirt half unbuttoned, jeans unzipped and parted, his head resting against the armrest on the backseat door. He tried not to think about the fact that Nick's tongue was down his throat as he gripped the back of his shirt tightly in shaking fists. He didn't feel right doing this, but… then again, he had no obligation. Why not have some fun?

Nick shifted as he sprawled across Castiel, grinding slowly and lazily down onto his date's groin. "Yeah, that's it…" he moaned, thrusting slowly, shallow and dry against his new partner. He fisted Castiel's hair, tilting his head back as he trailed nipping kisses from his bruised lips to the side of his neck, lapping at the milky skin hungrily.

Castiel swallowed hard, clenching his eyes shut at the touch. It felt good, he kept telling himself; he concentrated on the slow, deliberate thrusts against his own flaccid cock, cloth rubbing gently as Nick thrust against him again and again. He should be feeling something, but… it was just off. Just… wrong. "N-Nick… wait…" he gasped, flinching at a particularly hard thrust from his partner.

"Aw, but why, baby? We're just getting started." Nick replied, leaning up to kiss Castiel again, messy and rough. His hand drifted to the underside of Castiel's shirt, rubbing a thumb over a flattened nipple in an attempt to around his partner.

Castiel groaned slightly, one leg locking up against Nick's hip as he felt the stirrings of arousal in his groin. He felt that same hand drift south from his shirt to his jeans, attempting to slip inside his boxers and grip him tight. Suddenly, Cas couldn't take it anymore. "Wait, stop." He gasped, pushing Nick off of him slightly.

"What is it?" Nick asked, frowning at his partner's lack of interest.

Cas panted slightly, staring up at him. He scrambled for words, staring into pale blue eyes he couldn't quite learn to love. Sighing, he hoped his words would placate Nick for the night. "I'm really tired, and I have to get up early for work. But… I'm not working Friday… we can continue this tomorrow night." He offered, hoping he'd take the bait.

Nick gave him a look but ceded, sitting up. "Alrighty, no problem, babe." He responded, tucking himself back into his own jeans. He waited until Castiel sat up himself and was situating his own disheveled clothing before sneaking another kiss, all tongue and no affection. "I'll see you tomorrow night, then. I'll make sure to wear a hat." He added, winking suggestively.

Cas nodded, offering a weak smile as he got out of the car, and headed up the long walk to the front door. He turned to watch Nick's car pull away, shuddering at the thought of what he had just offered. "Great…"

Cas opened the door with tired hands, his feet dragging. He tossed his coat and keys on the table. "God if I have to go on one more date with that pig, I'm going to kill myself…" he muttered, stilling his own flustered hormones. He flopped on the couch, grabbing the remote off the coffee table. Not tired enough to fall asleep, he absentmindedly flipped through the channels, hoping to find something more entertaining than the "Late Late Show".

The phone rang and he reached for it before it stopped abruptly. Frowning, he chalked it up to Gabe answering, and turned his attention back to the television.

He had just gotten himself into a semi-interesting show when Gabe came into the living room, holding the phone in trembling hands. Cas looked up, ready to ask what the call was about, when he saw the obvious distress in his older brother's eyes. Something was terribly wrong.

"Gabe! What's wrong?" Cas asked, jumping to his feet. He paused, waiting for an answer, but his brother had been struck mute.

Cas hurried over and shook Gabriel's shoulders worriedly, panic rising like a hot bile in the back of his throat. "Gabe, talk! What the hell's going on!" he demanded, staring into his brother's glazed eyes.

Gabe shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he finally made eye contact with Castiel. "It's… it's Dean…" he managed to croak.

Cas let go of her shoulders, stiffening on the defense. "What about him?" he asked warily.

Gabe gasped slightly, collapsing on the nearest chair; his legs gave out almost completely. "I don't believe it… he's… he's dead."

The words were like a punch to the gut. All the breath in Castiel's body left him as he processed the words he had just heard. He went sheet white, staggering backwards into the wall. "What? Wha- are... are you sure?" he whispered, hoping to God that he was wrong.

Gabe nodded, holding the phone up. "Yeah… it was the hospital… they got a call in from Highway 32. A man was hit by a semi-truck. The paramedics are there right now… they've been working on him, but they don't think he's going to come back… I'm so sorry…"

Cas slid down the wall to the floor. He felt all the strength leave his body, and he held his hands to his forehead, his whole body shaking. "No… not Dean… please God… N-NOT DEAN!" he screamed, wrought in grief.

"NO!" He quivered violently. He crouched low against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest. Overwhelming guilt filled his very being as he thought about what he'd just been doing; very near fucking Nick in the back seat of his car like a tramp, while Dean had perished, by himself in the stormy night. He felt sick, his world swimming in a whirlwind of shock and disbelief. "Why? WHY? PLEASE GOD LET IT NOT BE TRUE!"

Gabe knelt next to his sobbing brother, and cradled him to his chest. "Oh my God, Cas, I'm so sorry this happened!" He whispered, stroking his hair in an attempt to comfort his aching heart.

Cas simply crumpled in his arms, whispering a prayer. "Please let it not be true… please God. Please…"

**

* * *

**

Dean found himself in a white fog. The cold tendrils of the fog licked at his skin, but he felt no sensation of that. He didn't feel fear, grief, or wonderment at all. It only took him a few moments to realize that there was a reason he felt nothing. He was dead; killed instantly by the impact. He knew he should have felt some sort of despair, but… there was nothing. No pain, no sadness… nothing.

He turned to look at his surroundings and saw God standing only a short distance away. He approached him, and asked, "Why? Why now?"

God looked at him sadly and said, "You can't kneel down in the middle of the highway and live to tell about it".

Dean looked down at his feet, ashamed of his own emotions and his own idiocy. God placed a hand on his shoulder, and they suddenly appeared at the site of the accident. Dean looked down at his own body lying on the ground. His arms and legs were splayed out in odd angles, and a stream of blood trickled down the sopping pavement, away from his corpse. Aside from the blood, Dean noted with surprise that he actually looked peaceful. He couldn't hear what was going on but he saw a crowd gathering around his body.

The truck driver, obviously still young, knelt next to his body, unsure of what to do. The crowd looked on in awe and fear, faces twisted in silent shouts as people begged for 911. It was useless; didn't they see that?

God gripped his shoulder again, and they reappeared in the white fog. "Now how about we pray?" God asked, handing Dean the prayer beads. "Pray for something important… I always find that by praying a little bit, the troubles seem to disappear."

Dean took the beads tightly in his hand, and closed his eyes. "Please God, end world hunger and stop the wars. Bring peace to the earth again." He opened his eyes. "How was that?"

God just smiled at him. "You don't pray a lot, do you? I think you can do better than that. What do you REALLY care about?"

Dean didn't even have to think of the answer to that one. "Cas."

God nodded His head. "He's going to be very upset when he hears the news about you, you know that right? But the real question is… If you could, would you want him back?"

Dean stared at the prayer beads, dawning realization brightening his dull green eyes. "No… I want him to be happy. No matter whom that's with. I want him to have someone who will always take care of him and love him unconditionally. I want him to meet someone who will always see him as I do now… through Your eyes." Dean finished, looking up at God with very human tears in his eyes.

"Now that's a prayer." God whispered, smiling at his Child with utmost love. "I'll get right on that."

Behind them the fog cleared away to the most breathtaking sight Dean had ever seen in his life. Everything glowed with beauty and intensity, land so pure and untainted by humans it made his heart clench in longing. He was home.

God turned towards Heaven and left the fog behind, smiling over his shoulder at Dean. But when he tried to follow him, he made it to the edge of the fog before something stopped him, an invisible wall that he could not pass.

"God!" he shouted, physically unable to pass through the fog's edge.

God turned around, mock surprise in his eyes. "Oh right. Almost forgot."

He approached Dean and placed his hands on his chest. This only served to confuse him. "I said I'd get right on that… CLEAR!"

Dean yelped in shock, thrown backwards into the fog with the force of God's touch. "What the hell was that?" he asked, his chest still hurting from the shock… wait, hurting?

God approached him and touched his chest again. "Good luck Dean… CLEAR!"

Dean gasped, his back arching off of the wet asphalt. His eyes flew open, and he saw flashing lights through a red haze. His shirt was torn open, and he felt the cold metal from the paddles still on his chest. Finally he heard voices shouting, and one in particularly close proximity, shouted in a muffled voice, "I GOT HIM! GET THE BODY BOARD AND A NECK BRACE!"

Dean felt his body being placed on the board and the brace placed tenderly around his neck. He felt the weightless sensation of lifted away before slipping back into unconsciousness, welcoming the dark.

* * *

He was in a very warm and safe place, he thought to himself, despite the fact that he couldn't see a damn thing. He felt content to be there, until he started to hurt… everywhere. When he started hurting, his vision began to clear, although he was damned if he knew what the visions were, or where he was.

Just when it seemed that the pain became so unbelievably agonizing, something entered his body and the pain went away… and so did the sight. A couple times -he wasn't sure how many- he felt a terrible squeezing sensation in his chest, and he started to fall away into the pit of his own prison, until something yanked him back to his reality of darkness and warmth.

This cycle continued on for what felt like forever. He wanted out of this hellish cycle, somehow ANY WAY! But just when he felt he'd go mad with his own self-inflicted fear, he felt someone touch his shoulder… at least that's what he thought it was. Someone was calling his name… at least that's what he thought it was.

"Dean? Dean?" the voice called again.

Dean finally mustered up enough strength to open his eyes. He wasn't sure who he was looking at; everything was so blurry and hazy to him.

"Dean… focus, Dean."

He blinked his eyes a couple times, trying to focus his eyes. Finally he opened his eyes again after a brief reprieve, and he found he was able to see clearly.

A very kindly looking male nurse had his hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Welcome back Dean. You're lucky to be alive. Someone up there must really like you." He said, patting his shoulder gently before checking the various machines in the room around him.

Dean looked at his surroundings. He was having trouble seeing out of his left eye, and everything felt like it was entombed in concrete.

He tried to survey his condition. A cast on his right leg up past his knee; a cast on his left wrist; gauze bandages that he could only assume covered hundreds of stitches all over his arms and legs; his chest wrapped up tightly, making it difficult to breathe deeply; a brace around his neck.

He lifted his "good" hand to his face, and felt his left eye swollen almost shut, tender to the touch and scabbed over. His lower lip was split and another bandage on his right cheek covered more stitches. Finally he found a turbine of bandages around his head. The back of his skull hurt the worst, where he slammed into the ground after the impact. What hair that was sticking out from the bottom of the bandages felt matted with something sticky… he assumed it was drying blood.

As he finished his self-examination, another nurse walked into the room and went over to check the blood bag hooked up intravenously to him. He stared at the label with amazement. It read AB+.

"They say that that stuff sits in warehouses somewhere." a voice said from the doorway to his room.

Dean turned his head with much difficulty, still feeling very disoriented. What he saw made him cry out in both surprise and relief.

In the doorway stood Cas, holding the bunched up trench coat in his trembling fists. Dean noted that his eyes were red and swollen, indicating that he had been crying.

Cas' shoulders hitched, as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. He made his way slowly to the bed, trying very hard not to cry in front of him. "My God… l-look at you!" he whimpered, sitting on the edge of the bed. He caressed Dean's cheek, trying not to touch the bandages.

Dean knew he wanted to hold him, and comfort him, but with the way he was laid up it was very difficult. "How long have I been here?" he whispered, trying not to overexert his voice.

Cas hung his head, taking a shuddering breath before speaking. "Three days. They wouldn't let me see you until you woke up, but I've been here ever since waiting for you to…"

The floodgates opened, Castiel finally succumbing to his grief. He began to sob, embracing Dean as gently as he could without hurting him further.

"T-they told me right after it happened… they said you were dead… killed instantly, and- and they got a pulse back. But you're heart s-stopped three times since then! Three times! They had to cut you open and fix your heart! The b-broken ribs damaged it… and … and…"

Dean reached around his shaking shoulders as best as he could, trying to calm him down.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry I'm crying. You don't need this right now…" Cas' voice came, muffled by the sleeve of Dean's hospital gown. The thin cloth was soaked through by his tears, but he made no move to pull away from his embrace.

The sorrow in Castiel's words made Dean's heart flutter in understanding and remorse.

"Cas… babe._._ Please stop crying. I'm ok now… I'm here. And I'm the one who should be sorry. For everything that I've done to you." Dean whispered, sitting Castiel up so he could look into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes were bloodshot from tears and lack of sleep, dulling the intensity of their hue considerably. "I promise I'll take care of you from now on. I won't treat you like I did. You deserve someone so much better than me…"

Cas shook his head. "No. YOU are perfect for me. No matter what happens we will always be together." He held his right hand up. The promise ring! "I believe you about Anna. Someone else who was at that party saw her take advantage of you. I should have trusted you and not my own stupid thoughts." Cas gave a weak smile, and leaned forward to kiss his lover gently.

"I also broke up with Nick. It was just awful being with him. I'm sorry I jumped so easily for him… He's a jerk, and nowhere near as good of a kisser as you."

Dean laughed slightly, and hugged him again. They both sat like that for what seemed like forever, just holding each other. They both almost lost the other, and they knew it. Dean nuzzled Cas' neck and opened his eyes.

For the first time since he woke up, he noticed that he was still clasping the prayer beads. He shook his head, glancing up to the heavens.

"Now you're just showing off."

**

* * *

**

*three months later*

Cas helped Dean limp off the site of the latest newscast, to the table under the blood drive tent.

"I have to admit, Mr. Winchester that was probably your best newscast ever!" Cas laughed, brushing a tender kiss to the top of Dean's head. A slight bald spot where the staples had been placed was finally growing back in, much to Dean's delight. He couldn't, as he said, 'wait to start gelling again.".

Dean laughed, leaning against the picnic table. The only signs of his recent accident were the cast on his left leg and the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest to secure the knitting ribs. Cas gazed into his partner's eyes fondly, his thumb grazing over the remains of the healing scar just below his right eye.

Dean turned to look at the crowds outside. He had just finished a newscast on the "Be the Miracle" blood drive, held in honor of the hospital he was laid up in. There were so many people gathered around the festivities, many of them congratulating Dean on his successful recovery.

He turned to look back at Cas, and grimaced jokingly. "I know it was the best one… but can't this wait until later?" he wheedled, knowing what was coming next.

"Nope!" Cas laughed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans casually. "It's your turn to donate blood! If you want, I'll be in the table next to you so it won't be so bad. I think you might even find it PLEASUREABLE…" he joked, kissing him on the cheek.

Dean smirked, watching his boyfriend's eyes twinkle with mischief. He supposed now was as good a time as any.

"Alright, you're going to embarrass me in front of all of these people? Fine… then I guess it's time to do the same to you before you don't have enough blood in you to blush!"

Dean turned to the crowd. "ATTENTION EVERYONE! I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!"

Cas stared at him for a moment, eyes widening at the sight of the massive crowd turning their attention on the two of them. "Dean, what are you doing?" he whispered, the tell-tale tinge of pink already staining the tops of his ears.

Dean smiled warmly at him. "After coming close to my demise, I laid up in the room, thinking that I better do this soon or I might never get the chance to again…" Turning back to the crowd, he introduced Castiel to those who didn't know him.

"It has come to my attention that life is just too short to waste. So now I will waste no more time to do this…" Dean spoke for the crowd, watching the expectant faces before him.

He got down on one knee with some difficulty and looking up at Castiel, took his hands in his. "Cas… I don't ever want to risk losing you again. I want you to be a part of my life forever… so…"

Listening to Castiel stammer slightly at the sudden change, he took the promise ring off of Cas' right hand and place it in his pocket. Reaching into the breast pocket of his own shirt, he pulled out a tiny box and opened it.

Castiel gasped in awe. It was a golden ring with an inlaid stripe all around it made of pure sapphire.

"Cas… please. Be mine. Forever." Dean murmured, placing the ring on Castiel's left ring finger.

The crowd cooed loudly at the sight, many a woman giggling with delight at the romantic scene before them. Even Bobby swelled with pride, watching his employee finally tie the knot that should have been done long before.

Dean stared into Cas eyes, waiting for the answer he secretly prayed he got.

Finally after recovering from the proposal, Cas knelt down next to him, and threw his arms around his neck, laughing.

"Took you long enough!" he exclaimed, tears of joy in his eyes.

Dean whooped for joy, pulling Castiel into an even tighter embrace on his lap. They kissed passionately, lost to the world around them as they joined together in love once again.

The crowd absolutely went wild, cheering loudly for the newly engaged couple before them, many a tear of happiness flooding the scene. Dean turned and gave a thumbs up to his boss, noting with satisfaction that even Bobby was touched by the scene before them. The day couldn't get any better than this.

Dean buried his face in the crook of Castiel's neck, gazing over his lover's shoulder expectantly around the area.

Off in the distance, he saw God standing amongst the crowd, unnoticed, and He smiled to his Child.

"Don't worry," God said, happily, "I've got the church down the street all lined up for you. Just set the date with them and they'll take care of the rest. Good luck Dean… You've done well."

Dean, feeling his own tears prick at his eyes, raised a hand and waved at Him, still wrapped tightly in Castiel's embrace. God returned the wave with much adoration, and walked away, leaving behind yet another firm believer in his miracles.

* * *

THE END

P.s. hope you guys enjoyed that! I certainly had fun writing it! Have a lovely day!


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